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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


"JOHN." 

The  manliest  man  among  my  fort^-.  —  Par^E  53. 


HOSPITAL  SKETCHES 


ca:mp  and  fireside  stories 


By    LOUISA    M.    ALCOTT 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

1869 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS, 

[n  the  Clerk's  Office  ot'  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


Cambridge:   rrt>t;w(.rk  bj-  Jnlin  Wilson  and  Son. 


CONTENTS. 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.     Obtaining  Supplies 3 

II.     A  Forward  Movkment 15 

III.  A  Day 25 

IV.  A  Night 40 

V.     Off  Duty 60 

VI.     A  Postscript 80 


CAMP  AND  FIRESIDE   STORIES. 

The  King  of  Clubs  and  the  Queen  of  Hearts 

Mrs.  Podgers'  Teapot  . 

My  Contraband 

Love  and  Loyalty 

A  Modern  Cinderella 

The  Blue  and  the  Gray 

A  Hospital  Christmas. 

An  Hour  .... 


FAGK 
99 

169 
I9S 

"95 
317 
345 


PEEEACE  TO  HOSPITAL  SKETCHES. 


These  sketches,  taken  from  letters  hastily  written 
in  the  few  leisure  moments  of  a  very  busy  life,  make 
no  pretension  to  literary  merit,  but  are  simply  a  brief 
record  of  one  person's  hospital  experience.  As  such, 
they  are  republished,  with  their  many  faults  but  par- 
tially amended,  lest  in  retouching  they  should  lose 
whatever  force  or  freshness  the  inspiration  of  the  time 
may  have  given  tliem. 

To  those  who  have  objected  to  a  "tone  of  levity  "  in 
some  portions  of  the  sketches,  I  desire  to  say  that  the 
wish  to  make  the  best  of  every  thing,  and  send  home 
cheerful  reports  even  from  that  saddest  of  scenes,  an 
army  hospital,  probably  produced  the  impression  of 
levity  upon  those  who  have  never  known  the  sharp 
contrasts  of  the  tragic  and  comic  in  such  a  life. 

That  Xurse  Periwinkle  gave  no  account  of  her 
religious  services,  thereby  showing  a  "sad  want  of 
Christian  experience,"  can  only  be  explained  by  the 
fact,  that  it  would  have  as  soon  occurred  to  her  to 
print  the  letters  written  for  the  men,  their  penitent 
confidences,  or  their  dying  messages,  as   to  mention 

(i) 


ii  PEEFACE. 

the  prayers  she  prayed,  the  hymns  she  sung,  the 
sacred  words  she  read;  while  the  '-^Christian  experi- 
ence'''' she  was  receiving  then  and  there  was  far  too 
deep  and  earnest  to  be  recorded  in  a  newspaper. 

The  unexpected  favor  with  which  the  Uttle  book 
Avas  greeted,  and  the  desire  for  a  new  edition,  increase 
the  author's  regret  that  it  is  not  more  worthy  such  a 
kind  reception.  l.  m.  a. 

Concord,  March,  1869. 


HOSPITAL  SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OBTAINIXa    SUPPLIES. 

"  I  WANT  something  to  do." 

This  remark  being  addressed  to  the  world  in  general,  no 
one  in  particular  felt  it  their  duty  to  reply  ;  so  I  repeated  it 
to  the  smaller  world  about  me,  received  the  following  sugges- 
tions, and  settled  the  matter  by  answering  my  own  inquiry,  as 
people  are  apt  to  do  when  very  much  in  earnest. 

"  Write  a  book,"  quoth  the  author  of  my  being. 

"  Don't  know  enough,  sir.     First  live,  then  write." 

"  Try  teaching  again,"  suggested  my  mother. 

'*  No  thank  you,  ma'am,  ten  years  of  that  is  enough." 

**  Take  a  husband  like  my  Darby,  and  fulfill  your  mission," 
said  sister  Joan,  home  on  a  visit. 

"  Can't  afford  expensive  luxuries,  Mrs.  Coobiddy." 

"Turn  actress,  and  immortalize  your  name,"  said  sister 
Vashti,  striking  an  attitude. 

"  I  won't." 

"  Go  nurse  the  soldiers,"saidmy  young  neighbor,  Tom,pant- 
ing  for  "  the  tented  field." 

"  I  will  !" 

3 


4  HOSPITAL     SKETCHES. 

So  far,  very  good.  Here  was  tbe  will,  and  plenty  of  it ; 
now  for  tbe  way.  At  first  siglit  not  a  foot  of  it  appeared ;  but 
that  didn't  matter,  for  the  Periwinkles  are  a  hopeful  race. 
Their  crest  is  an  anchor,  with  three  cock-a-doodles  crowino" 

o 

atop.  They  all  wear  rose-colored  spectacles,  and  are  lineal  de- 
scendants of  the  inventor  of  aerial  architectm-e.  Jin  hour's 
conversation  on  the  subject  set  the  whole  family  in  a  blaze  of 
enthusiasm.  A  model  hospital  was  erected,  and  each  mem- 
ber had  accepted  an  honorable  post  therein.  The  paternal  P. 
was  chaplain,  the  maternal  P.  was  matron,  and  all  the  youth- 
ful P.'s  filled  the  pod  of  futurity  with  achievements  whose 
brilliancy  eclipsed  the  glories  of  the  present  and  the  past. 
Arriving  at  this  satisfactory  conclusion,  the  meeting  ad- 
journed ;  and  the  fact  that  Miss  Tribulation  was  available  as 
army  nurse  went  abroad  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

In  a  few  days  a  towns  woman  heard  of  my  desire,  approved 
of  it,  and  brought  about  an  interview  with  one  of  the  sister- 
hood which  I  wished  to  join,  who  was  at  home  on  a  furlough, 
and  able  and  willing  to  satisfy  all  inquiries.  A  morning  chat 
with  Miss  General  S. — we  hear  no  end  of  Mrs.  Generals,  why 
not  a  Miss  ?  — produced  three  results  :  I  felt  that  I  could  do 
the  work,  was  offered  a  place,  and  accepted  it,  promising  not 
to  desert,  but  stand  ready  to  march  on  Washington  at  an 
hour's  notice. 

.  A  few  days  were  necessary  for  the  letter  containing  my  re- 
quest and  recommendation  to  reach  headquarters,  and  another, 
containing  my  commission,  to  return ;  therefore  no  time  was 
to  be  lost ;  and  heartily  thanking  my  pair  of  friends,  I  tore 
home  through  the  December  slush  as  if  the  rebels  were  after 
me,  and  like  many  another  recruit,  burst  in  upon  my  family 
with  the  announcement —  dd^ 

"I've  enlisted!  "  M^y 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHi:S.  O 

An  impressive  silence  followed.  Tom,  the  irrepressible, 
broke  it  vfiih  a  slap  on  the  shoulder  and  the  graceful  com- 
priment — 

*'  Old  Trib,  you're  a  trump !" 

"  Thank  you  ;  then  I'll  take  something  :"  which  I  did,  in 
the  shape  of  dinner,  reeling  oflf  my  news  at  the  rate  of  three 
dozen  words  to  a  mouthful ;  and  as  every  one  else  talked 
ecpally  fast,  and  all  together,  the  scene  was  most  inspiring. 

As  boys  going  to  sea  immediately  become  nautical  in  speech, 
walk  as  if  they  already  had  their  "  sea  legs  "  on,  and  shiver 
their  timbers  on  all  possible  occasions,  so  I  turned  military  at 
once,  called  my  dinner  my  rations,  saluted  all  new  comers, 
and  ordered  a  dress  parade  that  very  afternoon.  Having  re- 
viewed every  rag  I  possessed,  I  detailed  some  for  picket  duty 
while  airing  over  the  fence ;  some  to  the  sanitary  influences  of 
the  wash-tub  ;  others  to  mount  guard  in  the  trunk ;  while  the 
weak  and  wounded  went  to  the  Work-basket  Hospital,  to  be 
made  ready  for  active  service  again.  To  this  squad  I  devoted 
myself  for  a  week ;  but  all  was  done,  and  I  had  time  to  get 
powerfully  impatient  before  the  letter  came.  It  did  arrive 
however,  and  brought  a  disappointment  along  with  its  good 
will  and  friendliness,  for  it  told  me  that  the  place  in  the  Ar- 
mory Hospital  that  1  supposed  I  was  to  take,  was  already 
filled,  and  a  much  less  desirable  one  at  Hurly-burly  House 
was  oflfered  instead. 

"  That's  just  your  luck,  Trib.  I'll  take  your  trunk  up 
garret  for  you  again  ;  for  of  course  you  won't  go,"  Tom  re- 
marked, with  the  disdainful  pity  which  small  boys  affect  when 
they  get  into  their  teens.  I  was  wavering  in  my  secret  soul, 
but  that  settled  the  matter,  and  I  crushed  him  on  the  spot 
with  martial  brevity — 

"  It  is  now  one ;  I  shall  march  at  six.'' 


6  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES 

I  Lave  a  confused  recollection  of  spending  the  afternoon  in 
pervading  the  house  like  an  executive  whirlwind,  with  iny 
family  swarming  after  me,  all  working,  talking,  prophesying 
and  lamenting,  while  I  packed  my  "  go-abroady  "  possessions, 
tumbled  the  rest  into  two  big  boxes,  danced  on  the  lids  till 
they  shut,  and  gave  them  in  charge,  with  the  direction, — 

"  If  I  never  come  back,  make  a  bonfire  of  them." 

Then  I  choked  down  a  cup  of  tea,  generously  salted  instead 
of  sugared,  by  some  agitated  relative,  shouldered  my  knap- 
sack— it  was  only  a  traveling  bag,  but  do  let  me  preserve  the 
unities — hugged  my  family  three  times  all  round  without  a 
vestige  of  unmanly  emotion,  till  a  certain  dear  old  lady  broke 
down  upon  my  neck,  with  a  despairing  sort  of  wail — 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear,  how  can  I  let  you  go?'* 

"  I'll  stay  if  you  say  so,  mother." 

*'  But  I  don't ;  go,  and  the  Lord  will  take  care  of  you." 

Much  of  the  Roman  matron's  courage  had  gone  into  the 
Yankee  matron's  composition,  and,  in  spite  of  her  tears,  she 
would  have  sent  ten  sons  to  the  war,  had  she  possessed  them, 
as  freely  as  she  sent  one  daughter,  smiling  and  flapping  on  the 
door-step  till  I  vanished,  though  the  eyes  that  followed  me 
were  very  dim,  and  the  handkerchief  she  waved  was  very 
wet. 

My  transit  from  The  Gables  to  the  village  depot  was  a  funny 
mixture  of  good  wishes  and  good  byes,  mud-puddles  and  shop- 
ping. A  December  twilight  is  not  the  most  cheering  time  to 
enter  upon  a  somewhat  perilous  enterprise,  and,  but  for  the 
presence  of  Yashti  and  neighbor  Tom,  I  fear  that  I  might 
have  added  a  drop  of  the  briny  to  the  native  moisture  of — 

"  The  town  I  left  behind  me  ;" 
though  I'd  no  thought  of  giving  out :  oh,   bless  you,   no  I 
When  the  engine  screeched  "  Here  we  are,"  I  clutched  my 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  7 

escort  in  a  fervent  embrace,  and  skipped  into  the  car  with  as 
blithe  a  farewell  as  if  going  on  a  bridal  tour — though  I  be- 
lieve brides  don't  usually  wear  cavernous  black  bonnets  and 
fuzzy  brown  coats,  with  a  hair-brush,  a  pair  of  rubbers,  two 
books,  and  a  bag  of  ginger-bread  distorting  the  pockets  of  the 
same.  If  I  thought  that  any  one  would  believe  it,  I'd  boldly 
state  that  I  slept  from  C.  to  B.,  which  would  simplify  matters 
immensely ;  but  as  I  know  they  wouldn't,  I'll  confess  that 
the  head  under  the  funereal  coal-hod  fermented  with  all  man- 
ner of  high  thoughts  and  heroio  purposes  "  to  do  or  die,"  — 
perhaps  both  ;  and  the  heart  under  the  fuzzy  brown  coat  felt 
very  tender  with  the  memory  of  the  dear  old  lady,  probably 
sobbing  over  her  army  socks  and  the  loss  of  her  topsy-turvy 
Trib.  At  this  juncture  I  took  the  veil,  and  what  I  did  be- 
hind it  is  nobody's  business  ;  but  I  maintain  that  the  soldier 
who  cries  when  his  mother  says  "  Good  bye,"  is  the  boy  to 
fight  best,  and  die  bravest,  when  the  time  comes,  or  go  back 
to  her  better  than  he  went. 

Till  nine  o'clock  I  trotted  about  the  city  streets,  doing  those 
last  errands  which  no  woman  would  even  go  to  heaven  with, 
out  attempting,  if  she  could.  Then  I  went  to  my  usual  ref- 
uge, and,  fully  intending  to  keep  awake,  as  a  sort  of  vigil 
appropriate  to  the  occasion,  fell  fast  asleep  and  dreamed  pro- 
pitious dreams  till  my  rosy-faced  cousin  waked  me  with  a  kiss. 

A  bright  day  smiled  upon  my  enterprise,  and  at  ten  I  re- 
ported myself  to  my  General,  received  last  instructions  and 
no  end  of  the  sympathetic  encouragement  which  women  give, 
in  look,  touch,  and  tone  more  effectually  than  in  words.  The 
next  step  was  to  get  a  free  pass  to  Washington,  for  I'd  no 
desire  to  waste  my  substance  on  railroad  companies  when 
**  the  boys  "  needed  even  a  spinster's  mite.  A  friend  of  mine 
had  procured  such  a  pass,  and  I  was  bent  on  doing  likewise, 


8  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

though  I  had  to  face  the  president  of  the  railroad  to  accomplish 
it.  I'm  a  bashful  individual,  though  I  can't  get  any  one  to 
believe  it;  so  it  cost  rae  a  great  effort  to  poke  about  the 
Worcester  depot  till  the  right  door  appeared,  then  walk  into  a 
room  containing  several  gentlemen,  and  blunder  out  my  re- 
quest in  a  high  state  of  stammer  and  blush.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  courteous  than  this  dreaded  President,  but  it 
was  evident  that  I  had  made  as  absurd  a  demand  as  if  I  had 
asked  for  the  nose  off  his  respectable  face.  He  referred  mo 
to  the  Governor  at  the  State  House,  and  I  backed  out,  leaving 
him  no  doubt  to  regret  that  such  mild  maniacs  were  left  at 
large.  Here  was  a  Scylla  and  Charybdis  business  :  as  if  a 
President  wasn't  trying  enough,  without  the  Governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts and  the  Hub  of  the  Hub  on  top  of  that. 

*'  I  never  can  do  it,"  thought  I.  "Tom  will  hoot  at  you  if 
you  don't,"  whispered  the  inconvenient  little  voice  that  is  always 
goading  people  to  the  performance  of  disagreeable  duties,  and 
always  appeals  to  the  most  effective  agent  to  produce  the  prop- 
er result.  The  idea  of  allowing  any  boy  that  ever  wore  a 
felt  basin  and  a  shoddy  jacket  with  a  microscopic  tail,  to  crow 
over  me,  was  preposterous,  so  giving  myself  a  mental  slap  for 
such  faint-heartedness,  I  streamed  away  across  the  Common, 
wondering  if  I  ought  to  say  "  your  Honor,"  or  simply  "  Sir," 
and  decided  upon  the  latter,  fortifying  myself  with  recollec- 
tions of  an  evening  in  a  charming  green  library,  where  I  be- 
held the  Governor  placidly  consuming  oysters,  and  laughing 
as  if  Massachusetts  was  a  myth,  and  he  had  no  heavier  burden 
on  his  shoulders  than  his  host's  handsome  hands. 

Like  an  energetic  fly  in  a  very  large  cobweb,  I  struggled 
through  the  State  House,  getting  into  all  the  wrong  rooms  and 
none  of  the  right,  till  I  turned  desperate,  and  went  into  one, 
resolving  not  to  come  out  till  I'd  made  somebody  hear  and 


HOSPITAL    SKETCUES  9 

answer  nie.  I  suspect  that  of  all  the  wrong  places  I  had 
blunderefl  into,  this  was  the  most  so.  But  I  didn't  care  ;  and, 
though  the  apartment  was  full  of  soldiers,  surgeons,  starers, 
and  spittoons,  I  cornered  a  perfectly  incapable  person,  and 
proceeded  to  pump  for  information  with  the  following  re- 
sult : 

"  Was  the  Governor  anywhere  about?" 

No,  he  wasn't. 

"  Could  he  tell  me  where  to  look  ?" 

No,  ho  couldn't. 

"  Did  he  know  anything  about  free  passes  ?'* 

No,  he  didn't. 

"  Was  there  any  one  there  of  whom  I  could  inquire  ?" 

Not  a  person. 

"  Did  he  know  of  any  place  where  information  could  be 
obtained  ?" 

Not  a  place. 

"  Could  he  throw  the  smallest  gleam  of  light  upon  the  mat- 
ter, in  any  way  ?" 

Not  a  ray. 

I  am  naturally  irascible,  and  if  I  could  have  shaken  this 
negative  gentleman  vigorously,  the  relief  would  have  been 
immense.  The  prejudices  of  society  forbidding  this  mode  of 
redress,  I  merely  glowered  at  him  ;  and,  before  my  wrath 
found  vent  in  words,  my  General  appeared,  having  seen  me 
from  an  opposite  window,  and  come  to  know  what  I  was  about. 
At  her  command  the  languid  gentleman  woke  up,  and  troub- 
led himself  to  remember  that  Major  or  Sergeant  or  something 
Mc  K.  knew  all  about  the  tickets,  and  his  office  was  in  Milk 
Street.  I  perked  up  instanter,  and  then,  as  if  the  exertion 
was  too  much  for  him,  what  did  this  animated  wet  blanket  do 
but  add — 


10  nOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 

"  I  think  Mc  K.  may  have  left  Milk  Street,  now,  and  I 
don't  know  where  he  has  gone." 

"  Never  mind  ;  the  new  comers  will  know  where  he  has 
moved  to,  my  dear,  so  don't  bo  discouraged ;  and  if  you  don't 
succeed,  come  to  me,  and  we  will  see  what  to  do  next,"  said 
ray  General. 

I  blessed  her  in  a  fervent  manner  and  a  cool  hall,  fluttered 
round  the  corner,  and  bore  down  upon  Milk  street,  bent  on 
discovering  Mc  K.  if  such  a  being  was  to  be  found.  He 
wasn't,  and  the  ignorance  of  the  neighborhood  was  really  piti- 
able. Nobody  knew  anything,  and  after  tumbling  over  bun- 
dles of  leather,  bumping  against  big  boxes,  being  nearly  anni- 
hilated by  descending  bales,  and  sworn  at  by  aggravated 
truckmen,  I  finally  elicited  the  advice  to  look  for  Mc  K.  in 
Haymarket  Square.  Who  my  informant  was  I've  really  for- 
gotten ;  for,  having  hailed  several  busy  gentlemen,  some  one  of 
them  fabricated  this  delusive  quietus  for  the  perturbed  spirit, 
who  instantly  departed  to  the  sequestered  locality  he  named. 
If  I  had  been  in  search  of  the  Koh-i-noor  diamond  I  should 
have  been  as  likely  to  find  it  there  as  any  vestige  of  Mc  K. 
I  stared  at  signs,  inquired  in  shops,  invaded  an  eating  house, 
visited  the  recruiting  tent  in  the  middle  of  the  Square,  made 
myself  a  nuisance  generally,  and  accumulated  fine  samples  of 
mud  from  every  gutter  I  fell  into.  All  in  vain ;  and  I 
mournfully  turned  my  face  toward  the  General's,  feeling  that 
I  should  be  forced  to  enrich  the  railroad  company  after  all, 
when,  suddenly,  I  beheld  that  admirable  young  man,  brother- 
in-law  Darby  Coobiddy,  Esq.  I  an-estod  him  with  a  burst 
of  news,  and  wants,  and  woes,  which  caused  his  manly  coun- 
tenance to  lose  its  usual  repose. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  boy,  I'm  going  to  Washington  at  five,  and 
I  can't  find  the  free  ticket  man,  and  there  won't  be  time  to  see 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  H 

Joan,  and  I'm  so  tired  and  cross  I  don't  know  what  to  do; 
and  will  you  help  me,  like  a  cherub  as  you  are  V 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course.  I  know  a  fellow  who  will  set  us 
right,"  responded  Darby,  mildly  excited,  and  darting  into 
some  kind  of  an  office,  held  counsel  with  an  invisible  an  pel. 
who  sent  him  out  radiant.  "  All  serene.  I've  got  him.  I'll 
see  you  through  the  business,  and  then  get  Joan  from  the 
Dove  Cote  in  time  to  see  you  oflf." 

l*m  a  woman's  rights  woman,  and  if  any  man  had  offered 
help  in  the  morning,  I  should  have  condescendingly  refused 
it,  sure  that  I  could  do  everything  as  well,  if  not  better,  my- 
self. My  strong-mindedness  had  rather  abated  since  then, 
and  I  was  now  quite  ready  to  be  a  "  timid  trembler,"  if  neces- 
sary. Dear  me  !  how  easily  Darby  did  it  all :  he  just  asked 
one  question,  received  an  answer,  tucked  me  under  his  arm, 
and  in  ten  minutes  I  stood  in  the  presence  of  Mc  K.,  the 
Desired. 

•'  Now  my  troubles  are  over,"  thought  I,  and  as  usual  was 
direfully  mistaken. 

"  You  will  have  to  get  a  pass  from  Dr.  H.,  in  Temple 
Place,  before  I  can  give  you  a  pass,  madam,"  answered  Mc 
K.,  as  blandly  as  if  he  wasn't  carrying  desolation  to  my  soul. 
Oh,  indeed  !  why  didn't  he  send  me  to  Dorchester  Heif^hts, 
India  Wharf,  or  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  and  done  with  it  ? 
Here  I  was,  after  a  morning's  tramp,  down  in  some  place  about 
Dock  Square,  and  was  told  to  step  to  Temple  Place.  Nor 
was  that  all ;  he  might  as  well  have  asked  me  to  catch  a  hum- 
ming-bird, toast  a  salamander,  or  call  on  the  man  in  the  moon, 
as  find  a  Doctor  at  home  at  the  busiest  hour  of  the  day.  It 
was  a  blow  ;  but  weariness  had  extinguished  enthusiasm,  and 
resignation  clothed  me  as  a  garment.  I  sent  Darby  for  Joan, 
and  doggedly  paddled  off,  feeling  that  mud  was  my  native  ele- 


12  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

ment,  and  quite  sure  that  the  evening  papers  would  announce 
the  appearance  of  the  "Wandering  Jew,  in  feminine  habili- 
ments. 

"Is  Dr.  H.  in?'* 

"  No,  mum,  he  aint." 

Of  course  he  wasn't;  I  knew  that  before  I  asked:  and, 
considering  it  all  in  the  light  of  a  hollow  mockery,  added: 

*'  When  will  he  probably  return  V" 

If  the  damsel  had  said,  "  ten  to-night,"  I  should  have  felt  a 
gi'im  satisfaction,  in  the  fulfillment  of  my  own  dark  prophecy; 
but  she  said,  "  At  two,  mum  ;"  and  I  felt  it  a  personal  insult. 

•'  I'll  call,  then.  Tell  him  my  business  is  important  :"  with 
which  mysteriously  delivered  message  I  departed,  hoping  that 
I  left  her  consumed  with  curiosity ;  for  mud  rendered  me  an 
object  of  interest. 

By  way  of  resting  myself,  I  crossed  the  Common,  for  the 
thii'd  time,  bespoke  the  carriage,  got  some  lunch,  packed  my 
purchases,  smoothed  my  plumage,  and  was  back  again,  as  the 
clock  struck  two.  The  Doctor  hadn't  come  yet ;  and  I  was 
morally  certain  that  he  would  not,  till,  having  waited  till  the 
last  minute,  I  was  driven  to  buy  a  ticket,  and,  five  minutes 
after  the  irrevocable  deed  was  done,  he  would  be  at  my  serv- 
ice, -with  all  manner  of  helpful  documents  and  directions. 
Everything  goes  by  contraries  with  me ;  so,  having  made  up 
my  mind  to  be  disappointed,  of  course  I  wasn't ;  for,  present- 
ly, in  walked  Dr.  H.,  and  no  sooner  had  he  heard  my  eiTand, 
and  glanced  at  my  credentials,  than  he  said,  with  the  most  en- 
guging  readiness : 

"  I  will  give  you  the  order,  with  pleasure,  madam." 

Words  connot  express  how  soothing  and  delightful  it  was  to 
find,  at  last,  somebody  who  could  do  what  I  wanted,  without 
sendinor  me  fi'om  Dan  to  Beersheba,  for  a  dozen  other  bodies 


HOSPITAL    SKETCnES.  13 

to  do  something  else  first.  Peace  descended,  like  oil,  upon 
the  mfflt'd  waters  of  my  being,  as  I  sat  listening  to  the  busy 
scratch  of  his  pen  ;  and,  when  he  tui'ned  about,  giving  me  not 
only  the  order,  but  a  paper  of  directions  wherewith  to  smooth 
away  all  difficulties  between  Boston  and  Washington,  I  felt  as 
did  poor  Christian  when  the  Evangelist  gave  him  the  scroll, 
on  the  safe  side  of  the  Slough  of  Despond.  I've  no  doubt 
many  dismal  nurses  have  inflicted  themselves  upon  the  worthy 
gentleman  since  then ;  but  I  am  sure  none  have  been  more 
kindly  helped,  or  are  more  grateful,  than  T.  P. ;  for  that  short 
interview  added  another  to  the  many  pleasant  associations  that 
already  suiTound  his  name. 

reeling  myself  no  longer  a  "  Martha  Struggles,"  but  a 
comfortable  young  woman,  with  plain  sailing  before  her,  and 
the  worst  of  the  voyage  well  over,  I  once  more  presented  my- 
self to  the  valuable  Mc  K.  The  order  was  read,  and  certain 
printed  papers,  necessary  to  be  filled  out,  were  given  a  young 
^^entleman — no,  I  prefer  to  say  Boy,  with  a  scornful  emphasis 
upon  the  word,  as  the  only  means  of  revenge  now  left  me. 
Tthis  Boy,  instead  of  doing  his  duty  with  the  diligence  so 
charming  in  the  young,  loitered  and  lounged,  in  a  manner 
which  proved  his  education  to  have  been  sadly  neglected  in 
the— 

"  How  doth  the  littlo  busy  bee/' 
direction.  He  stared  at  me,  gaped  out  of  the  window,  ate 
peanuts,  and  gossiped  with  his  neighbors — Boys,  like  himself, 
and  all  penned  in  a  row,  like  colts  at  a  Cattle  Show.  I  don't 
imagine  he  knew  the  anguish  he  was  inflicting ;  for  it  was 
nearly  three,  the  train  left  at  five,  and  I  had  my  ticket  to  get, 
my  dinner  to  eat,  my  blessed  sister  to  eee,  and  the  depot  to 
reach,  if  I  didn't  die  of  apoplexy.  Meanwhile  Patience 
certainly  had  her  perfect  work  that  day,  and  I  hope  she  en- 


14  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

joyed  the  job  more  than  I  did.  Having  waited  some  twenty 
minutes,  it  pleased  this  reprehensible  Boy  to  make  various 
marks  and  blots  on  my  documents,  toss  thera  to  a  Tenerablc 
creature  of  sixteen,  who  delivered  them  to  me  with  such  pa- 
ternal directions,  that  it  only  needed  a  pat  on  the  head  and  an 
encouraging — "  Now  run  home  to  your  Ma,  little  girl,  and 
mind  the  crossings,  my  dear,"  to  make  the  illusion  quite  per- 
fect. 

Why  I  was  sent  to  a  steamboat  office  for  car  tickets,  is  not 
for  me  to  say,  though  I  went  as  meekly  as  I  should  have  gone 
to  the  Probate  Court,  if  sent.  A  fat,  easy  gentleman  gave 
me  several  bits  of  paper,  with  coupons  attached,  with  a  warn- 
ing not  to  separate  them,  which  instantly  inspired  me  with  a 
yeai'ning  to  pluck  them  apart,  and  see  what  came  of  it.  But, 
rememberino;  throuo-h  what  fear  and  tribulation  I  had  obtained 
them,  I  curbed  Satan's  promptings,  and,  clutching  my  prize,  as 
if  it  were  my  pass  to  the  Elysian  Fields,  I  hurried  home. 
Dinner  was  rapidly  consumed  ;  Joan  enlightened,  comforted, 
and  kissed  ;  the  dearest  of  apple-faced  cousins  hugged ;  the 
kindest  of  apple-faced  cousins'  fathers  subjected  to  the  same 
process;  and  I  mounted  the  ambulance,  baggage-wagon,  or 
anything  you  please  but  hack,  and  drove  away,  too  tiled  to 
feel  excited,  sony,  or  glad. 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 


CHAPTER   IL 

A    FORWARD    MOVEMENT. 

As  travelers  like  to  give  their  own  impressions  of  a  journey, 
though  every  inch  of  the  road  may  have  been  described  a 
half  a  dozen  times  before,  I  add  some  of  the  notes  made  by 
the  way,  hoping  that  they  will  amuse  the  reader,  and  con- 
vince the  skeptical  that  such  a  being  as  Nuvse  Periwinkle 
does  exist,  that  she  really  did  go  to  Washington,  and  that 
these  Sketches  are  not  romance. 

New  York  Train — Seven  P.  Ji.— Spinning  along  to  take 
the  boat  at  Xew  London.  Very  comfortable  ;  munch  ginger- 
bread, and  Mrs.  C.'s  fine  pear,  which  deserves  honorable  men- 
tion, because  my  first  loneliness  was  comforted  by  it,  and  plea=;- 
ant  recollections  of  both  kindly  sender  and  bearer.  Look 
much  at  Dr.  H.'s  paper  of  directions — put  my  tickets  in  ev- 
ery conceivable  place,  that  they  may  be  get-at-able,  and  finish 
by  losing  them  entirely.  Suffer  agonies  till  a  compassionate 
neighbor  pokes  them  out  of  a  crack  with  his  pen-knife.  Put 
them  in  the  inmost  corner  of  my  purse,  that  in  the  deepest 
recesses  of  my  pocket,  pile  a  collection  of  miscellaneous  arti- 


16  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

cles  atop,  and  pin  up  the  whole.  Just  get  composed,  feel'mg 
that  I've  done  my  best  to  keep  them  safely,  when  the  Con- 
ductor appears,  and  I'm  forced  to  rout  them  all  out  again,  ex- 
posing my  precautions,  and  getting  into  a  flutter  at  keeping 
the  man  waiting.  Finally,  fasten  them  on  the  seat  before  me, 
and  keep  one  eye  steadily  upon  the  yellow  torments,  till  I  for- 
get all  about  them,  in  chat  with  the  gentleman  who  shares  my 
seat.  Having  heard  complaints  of  the  absurd  way  in  which 
American  women  become  images  of  petrified  propriety,  if  ad- 
dressed by  strangers,  when  traveling  alone,  the  inborn  per- 
versity of  my  nature  causes  me  to  assume  an  entirely  oppo- 
site style  of  deportment ;  and,  finding  my  companion  hails 
from  Little  Athens,  is  acquainted  with  several  of  my  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  cousins,  and  in  every  way  a  respecta- 
ble and  respectful  member  of  society,  I  put  my  bashfulness  in 
my  pocket,  and  plunge  into  a  long  conversation  on  the  war, 
the  weather,  music,  Carlyle,  skating,  genius,  hoops,  and  the 
immortality  of  the  soul. 

Ten,  P.  M. — Very  sleepy.  Nothing  to  be  seen  outside, 
but  darkness  made  visible  ;  nothing  inside  but  every  variety 
of  bunch  into  which  the  human  form  can  be  twisted,  rolled, 
or  "  massed,"  as  Miss  Prescott  says  of  her  jewels.  Every 
-man's  legs  sprawl  drowsily,  every  woman's  head  (but  mine,) 
nods,  till  it  finally  settles  on  somebody's  shoulder,  a  new  proof 
of  the  truth  of  the  everlasting  oak  and  vine  simile  ;  children 
fret ;  lovers  whisper;  old  folks  snore,  and  somebody  privatelj 
imbibes  brandy,  when  the  lamps  go  out.  The  penetrating 
perfume  rouses  the  multitude,  causing  some  to  start  up,  like 
war  horses  at  the  smell  of  powder.  When  the  lamps  are  re- 
lighted, evei-y  one  laughs,  sniffs,  and  looks  inquiringly  at  his 
neighbor — every  one  but  a  stout  gentleman,  who,  with  well- 
gloved  hands  folded  upon  his  broad-cloth  roiunuity,  sleeps  on 

R30 

NcU 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  17 

impressively.  Had  bo  been  innocent,  he  would  have  waked 
up  ;  for,  to  slumber  in  that  babe-like  manner,  with  a  car  full 
of  giggling,  staring,  sniffing  humanity,  was  simply  preposter- 
ous. Public  suspicion  was  down  upon  him  at  once.  I  doubt 
it'  the  appearance  of  a  flat  black  bottle  with  a  label  would 
have  settled  the  matter  more  effectually  than  did  the  over  dig- 
nified and  profound  repose  of  this  short-sighted  being.  His 
moral  neck-cloth,  virtuous  boots,  and  pious  attitude  availed 
)  im  nothing,  and  it  was  well  he  kept  his-  eyes  shut,  for 
'*  Humbug  !"  twinkled  at  him  from  every  window-pane,  brass 
nail  and  human  eye  around  him. 

Eleven,  P.  M. — In  the  boat  "City  of  Bo.ston,"  escorted 
thither  by  my  car  acquaintance,  and  deposited  in  the  cabin. 
Trying  to  look  as  if  the  greater  portion  of  my  life  had  been 
passed  on  board  boats,  but  painfully  conscious  that  I  don't 
know  the  first  thing  ;  so  sit  bolt  upright,  and  stare  about  me 
till  I  hear  one  lady  say  to  another — "We  must  secure  our 
berths  at  once ;"  whereupon  I  dart  at  one,  and,  while  leisurely 
taking  off  my  cloak,  wait  to  discover  what  the  second  move 
may  be.  Several  ladies  draw  the  curtains  that  hang  in  a 
semi-circle  before  each  nest — instantly  I  whisk  mine  smartly 
together,  and  then  peep  out  to  see  wbat  next.  Gradually,  on 
hooks  above  the  blue  and  yellow  drapery,  appear  the  coats 
and  bonnets  of  my  neighbors,  while  their  boots  and  shoes,  in 
every  imaginable  attitude,  assert  themselves  below,  as  if  their 
owners  had  committed  suicide  in  a  body.  A  violent  creak- 
ing, scrambling,  and  fussing,  causes  the  fact  that  people  are 
going  regularly  to  bed  to  dawn  upon  my  mind.  Of  course 
they  are  ;  and  so  am  I — but  pause  at  the  seventh  pin,  remem- 
bering that,  as  I  was  born  to  be  drowned,  an  eligible  opportu- 
nity now  presents  itself;  and,  having  twice  escaped  a  wateiy 
gra^e,  the  third  immersion  will  certainly  extinguish  my  vital 


18 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 


spark.  The  boat  is  new,  but  if  it  ever  intends  to  blow  up, 
spring  a  leak,  catch  afire,  or  be  run  into,  it  will  do  the  deed 
to-night,  because  I'm  here  to  fulfill  my  destiny.  With  tragic 
calmness  I  resign  myself,  replace  my  pins,  lash  my  purse  and 
papers  together,  with  my  handkerchief,  examine  the  saving 
circumference  of  my  hoop,  and  look  about  me  for  any  means 
of  deliverance  when  the  moist  moment  shall  arrive  ;  for  I've 
no  intention  of  folding  my  hands  and  bubbling  to  death  with- 
out an  energetic  splashing  first.  Barrels,  hen-coops,  portable 
settees,  and  life-preservers  do  not  adorn  the  cabin,  as  they 
should  ;  and,  roving  wildly  to  and  fro,  my  eye  sees  no  ray  of 
hope  till  it  falls  upon  a  plump  old  lady,  devoutly  reading  in 
the  cabin  Bible,  and  a  voluminous  night-cap.  I  remember 
that,  at  the  swimming  school,  fat  girls  always  floated  best,  and 
in  an  instant  my  plan  is  laid.  At  the  first  alarm  I  firmly 
attach  myself  to  the  plump  lady,  and  cling  to  her  through 
fire  and  water  ;  for  I  feel  that  my  old  enemy,  the  cramp,  will 
seize  me  by  the  foot,  if  I  attempt  to  swim  ;  and,  though  I  can 
hardly  expect  to  reach  Jersey  City  with  myself  and  my  bag- 
gage in  as  good  condition  as  I  hoped,  I  might  manage  to  get 
picked  up  by  holding  to  my  fat  friend ;  if  not  it  will  be  a 
comfort  to  feel  that  I've  made  an  effort  and  shall  die  in  good 
society.  Poor  dear  woman  !  how  little  she  dreamed,  as  she 
read  and  rocked,  with  her  cap  in  a  high  state  of  starch,  and  her 
feet  comfortably  cooking  at  the  register,  what  fell  designs 
were  hovering  about  her,  and  how  intently  a  small  but  de- 
termined eye  watched  her,  till  it  suddenly  closed. 

Sleep  got  the  better  of  fear  to  such  an  extent  that  my  boots 
appeared  to  gape,  and  my  bonnet  nodded  on  its  peg,  before  I 
gave  in.  Having  piled  my  cloak,  bag,  rubbers,  books  and 
umbrella  on  the  lower  shelf,  I  drowsily  swarmed  on  to  the 
upper  one,  tumbling  down  a  few  times,   and  excoriating  the 


UOSPITAL    SKETCHJiS. 


19 


knobby  portions  of  my  frame  in  the  act.  A  very  brief  nap 
on  the  upper  roost  was  enough  to  set  me  gasping  as  if  a  dozen 
feather  beds  and  the  whole  boat  were  laid  over  me.  Out  I 
turned  ;  and,  after  a  series  of  convulsions,  which  caused  my 
neighbor  to  ask  if  I  wanted  the  stewardess,  I  managed  to  get 
my  luggage  up  and  myself  down.  But  even  in  the  lower 
berth,  my  rest  was  not  unbroken,  for  various  articles  kept 
dropping  off  the  little  shelf  at  the  bottom  of  the  bed,  and  every 
time  I  flew  up,  thinking  my  hour  had  come,  I  bumped 
my  head  severely  against  the  little  shelf  at  the  top,  evidently 
put  there  for  that  express  purpose.  At  last,  after  listening  to 
the  swash  of  the  waves  outside,  wondering  if  the  machinery 
usually  creaked  in  that  way,  and  watching  a  knot-hole  in  the 
side  of  my  berth,  sure  that  death  would  creep  in  there  ag 
soon  as  I  took  my  eye  from  it,  I  dropped  asleep,  and  dreamed 
of  muflins. 

Five,  A.  M. — On  deck,  trying  to  wake  up  and  enjoy  an 
east  wind  and  a  morning  fog,  and  a  twilight  sort  of  view  of 
something  on  the  shore.  Kapidly  achieve  my  purpose,  and 
do  enjoy  every  moment,  as  we  go  rushing  through  the  Sound, 
with  steamboats  passing  up  and  down,  lights  dancing  on  the 
shore,  mist  wreaths  slowly  furling  off,  and  a  pale  pink  sky 
above  us,  as  the  sun  comes  up. 

Seven,  A.  M. — In  the  cars,  at  Jersey  City.  Much  fuss 
with  tickets,  which  one  man  scribbles  over,  another  snips,  and 
a  third  "  makes  note  on."  Partake  of  refreshment,  in  the 
gloom  of  a  very  large  and  dirty  depot.  Think  that  my  sand- 
wiches would  be  more  relishing  without  so  strong  a  flavor  of 
napkin,  and  my  gingerbread  more  easy  of  consumption  if  it 
had  not  been  pulverized  by  being  sat  upon.  People  act  as  if 
earlv  travelino:  didn't  ao-ree  with  them.  Children  scream  and 
scamper  ;  men  smoke  and  growl ;  women  shiver  and  fret ;  por- 

c 


20  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

ters  swear ;  great  truck  horses  pace  up  and  down  with  loads  of 
baggage  ;  and  every  one  seems  to  get  into  the  wrong  car,  and 
come  tumbling  out  again.  One  man,  with  three  children,  a 
dog,  a  bird-cage,  and  several  bundles,  puts  himself  and  his 
possessions  into  every  possible  place  where  a  man,  three  chil- 
dren, dog,  bird-cage  and  bundles  could  be  got,  and  is  satisfied 
with  none  of  them.  I  follow  their  movements,  with  an  in- 
terest that  is  really  exhausting,  and,  as  they  vanish,  hope  for 
rest,  but  don't  get  it.  A  strong-minded  woman,  with  a  tum- 
bler in  her  hand,  and  no  cloak  or  shawl  on,  comes  rushing 
through  the  car,  talking  loudly  to  a  small  porter,  who  lugs  a 
folding  bed  after  her,  and  looks  as  if  life  were  a  burden  to 
him. 

"  You  promised  to  have  it  ready.  It  is  not  ready.  It  must 
be  a  car  with  a  water  jar,  the  windows  must  be  shut,  the  fire 
must  be  kept  up,  the  blinds  must  be  down.  No,  this  won't 
do.  I  shall  go  through  the  whole  train,  and  suit  myself,  for 
you  promised  to  have  it  ready.  It  is  not  ready,"  &c.,  all 
through  again,  like  a  hand-organ.  She  haunted  the  cars,  the 
depot,  the  oflice  and  baggage-room,  with  her  bed,  her  tumbler, 
and  her  tongue,  till  the  train  started  ;  and  a  sense  of  fervent 
gratitude  filled  my  soul,  when  I  found  that  she  and  her  un- 
known invalid  were  not  to  share  our  car. 

Philadelphia. — An  old  place,  full  of  Dutch  women,  in 
"bellus  top  "  bonnets,  selling  vegetables,  in  long,  open  mar- 
kets. Every  one  seems  to  be  scrubbing  their  white  steps. 
All  the  houses  look  like  tidy  jails,  with  their  outside  shutters. 
Several  have  crape  on  the  door-handles,  and  many  have  flags 
flying  from  roof  or  balcony.  Few  men  appear,  and  the 
women  seem  to  do  the  business,  which,  perhaps,  accounts  for 
its  being  so  well  done.  Pass  fine  buildings,  but  don't  know 
what  they  are.     Would  like  to  stop  and   see   my  native  city  ; 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 


2i 


for,  having  left  it  at  the  tender  age  of  two,  my  recollections 
arc  not  vivid. 

Baltimore. — A  big,  dirty,  shippy,  shiftless  place,  full  of 
goats,  geese,  colored  people,  and  coal,  at  least  the  part  of  it  I 
sec.  Pass  near  the  spot  where  the  riot  took  place,  and  feel  as 
if  I  should  enjoy  throwing  a  stone  at  somebody,  hard.  Find 
a  guard  at  the  ferry,  the  depot,  and  here  and  there,  along  the 
road.  A  camp  whitens  one  hill-side,  and  a  cavalry  training 
school,  or  whatever  it  should  be  called,  is  a  very  interesting 
sight,  with  quantities  of  horses  and  riders  galloping,  march- 
ing, leaping,  and  skirmishing,  over  all  manner  of  break-neck 
places.  A  party  of  English  people  get  in — the  men,  with 
sandy  hair  and  red  whiskers,  all  trimmed  alike,  to  a  hair ; 
rough  grey  coats,  very  rosy,  clean  faces,  and  a  fine,  full  way 
of  speaking,  which  is  particularly  agreeable,  after  our  slip- 
shod American  gabble.  The  two  ladies  wear  funny  velvet 
fur-trimmed  hoods  ;  are  done  up,  like  compact  bundles,  in  tar 
tan  shawls ;  and  look  as  if  bent  on  seeing  everything  thorough- 
ly. The  devotion  of  one  elderly  John  Bull  to  his  red-nosed 
spouse  was  really  beautiful  to  behold.  She  was  plain  and 
cross,  and  fussy  and  stupid,  but  J.  B.,  Esq.,  read  no  papers 
when  she  was  awake,  turned  no  cold  shoulder  when  she  wished 
to  sleep,  and  cheerfully  said,  "  Yes,  me  dear,"  to  every  wish 
or  want  the  wife  of  his  bosom  expressed.  I  quite  warmed  to 
the  excellent  man,  and  asked  a  question  or  two,  as  the  only 
means  of  expressing  my  good  will.  He  answered  very  civ- 
illy, but  evidently  hadn't  been  used  to  being  addressed  by 
strange  women  in  public  conveyances ;  and  Mrs.  B.  fixed  her 
green  eyes  upon  me,  as  if  she  thought  me  a  forward  huzzy,  or 
whatever  is  good  English  for  a  presuming  young  woman.  The 
pair  left  their  friends  before  wc  reached  Washington  ;  and  the 
last  I  saw  of  them  was  a  vision  of  a  large  plaid  lady,  stalking 


22  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

grimly  away,  on  the  arm  of  a  rosy,  stout  gentleman,  loaded 
with  rugs,  bags,  and  books,  but  still  devoted,  still  smiling,  and 
waving  a  hearty  *'  Fare  ye  well  !  We'll  meet  ye  at  Willard's 
on  Chusday." 

Soon  after  their  departure  we  had  an  accident ;  for  no  long 
journey  in  America  would  be  complete  without  one.  A  coup- 
ling iron  broke  ;  and,  after  leaving  the  last  car  behind  us,  we 
waited  for  it  to  come  up,  which  it  did,  with  a  crash  that 
knocked  every  one  forward  on  their  faces,  and  caused  several 
old  ladies  to  screech  dismally.  Hats  flew  off,  bonnets  were 
flattened,  the  stove  skip/.ed,  the  lamps  fell  down,  the  water 
jar  turned  a  somersault,  and  the  wheel  just  over  which  I  sat 
received  some  damage.  Of  coui'se,  it  became  necessary  for 
all  the  men  to  get  out,  and  stand  about  in  everybody's  way, 
while  repairs  were  made  ;  and  for  the  women  to  wrestle  their 
heads  out  of  the  windows,  asking  ninety-nine  foolish  questions 
to  one  sensible  one.  A  few  wise  females  seized  this  favorable 
moment  to  better  their  seats,  well  knowing  that  few  men  can 
face  the  wooden  stare  with  which  they  regard  the  former  pos- 
sessors of  the  places  they  have  invaded. 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  did  not  seem  so  very 
unlike  that  which  1  had  left,  except  that  it  was  more  level  and 
less  wintry.  In  summer  time  the  wide  fields  would  have 
shown  me  new  sights,  and  the  way-side  hedges  blossomed  with 
new  flowers  ;  now,  everything  was  sere  and  sodden,  and  a  gen- 
eral air  of  shiftlessness  prevailed,  which  would  have  caused  a 
New  England  ftirmer  much  disgust,  and  a  strong  desire  to 
"  buckle  to,  "  and  "  right  up  "  things.  Dreary  little  houses, 
with  chimneys  built  outside,  with  clay  and  rough  sticks  piled 
crosswise,  as  we  used  to  build  cob  towers,  stood  in  barren 
looking  fields,  with  cow.  pig,  or  mule  lounging  about  the  door. 
We  often  passed  colored  people,  looking  as  if  they  had  come 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  2J 

out  of  a  picture  book,  or  off  the  stage,  Lut  not  at  all  the  sort 
of  peoj)le  I'd  been  accustomed  to  see  at  the  North. 

Way-side  encampments  made  the  fields  and  lanes  gay  with 
blue  coats  and  the  glitter  of  buttons.  Military  washes  flapped 
and  fluttered  on  the  fences ;  pots  were  steaming  in  the  open 
air ;  all  sorts  of  tableaux  seen  through  the  openings  of  ten's, 
and  eveiywhcre  the  boys  threw  up  their  caps  and  cut  capers  as 
we  passed. 

Washington. — It  was  dark  when  we  an'ived ;  and,  but  for 
the  presence  of  another  friendly  gentleman,  I  should  have 
yielded  myself  a  helpless  prey  to  the  first  overpowering  hack- 
man,  who  insisted  that  I  wanted  to  go  just  where  I  didn't.  Put- 
ting me  into  the  conveyance  I  belonged  in,  my  escort  added 
to  the  obligation  by  pointing  out  the  objects  of  interest  which 
we  passed  in  our  long  di'ive.  Though  I'd  often  been  told  that 
Wasliington  was  a  spacious  place,  its  visible  magnitude  quite 
took  my  breath  away,  and  of  course  I  quoted  Randolph's 
expression,  "a  city  of  magnificent  distances,"  as  I  suppose 
every  one  does  when  they  see  it.  The  Capitol  was  so  like  the 
pictures  that  hang  opposite  the  staring  Father  of  his  Country, 
in  boarding-houses  and  hotels,  that  it  did  not  impress  nie, 
except  to  recall  the  time  when  I  was  sure  that  Cinderella  went 
to  housekeeping  in  just  such  a  place,  after  she  had  married  the 
inflammable  Prince ;  though,  even  at  that  early  period,  I  had 
my  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  a  match  whose  foundation  was 
of  glass. 

The  White  House  was  lighted  up,  and  carnages  were  roll- 
ing in  and  out  of  the  great  gate.  I  stared  hard  at  the  famous 
East  Room,  and  would  have  liked  a  peep  through  the  crack  of 
the  door.  My  old  gentleman  was  indefatigable  in  his  atten- 
tions, and  I  said  "  Splendid  !"  to  everything  he  pointed  out, 
though    I  suspect   I    often    admired    the    wrong    place,  and 


24 


HOSPITAL    SKLTCUES., 


missed  the  right.  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  with  its  bustle, 
lights,  mu-ic,  and  military,  made  me  feel  as  if  I'd  crossed  the 
water  and  landed  somewhere  in  Carnival  time.  Coming  to 
loss  noticeable  parts  of  the  city,  my  companion  fell  silent,  and 
I  meditated  upon  the  perfection  which  Art  had  attained  in 
America — having  just  passed  a  bronze  statue  of  some  hero, 
who  looked  like  a  black  Methodist  minister,  in  a  cocked  hat, 
above  the  waist,  and  a  tipsy  squire  below ;  while  his  horse  stood 
like  an  opera  dancer,  on  one  leg,  in  a  high,  but  somewhat  re- 
mnrkable  wind,  which  blew  his  mane  one  way  and  his  massive 
tail  the  other. 

"  Hurly-burly  House,  ma'am  !"* called  a  voice,  startling  me 
from  my  reverie,  as  we  stopped  before  a  great  pile  of  build- 
ings, with  a  flag  flying  before  it,  sentinels  at  the  door,  and  a 
very  trying  quantity  of  men  lounging  about.  My  heart  beat 
rather  faster  than  usual,  and  it  suddenly  strack  me  that  I  was 
veiy  far  from  home ;  but  I  descended  with  dignity,  wondering 
w^hether  I  should  be  stopped  for  want  of  a  countersign,  and 
forced  to  pass  the  night  in  the  street.  Marching  boldly  up  the 
steps,  I  found  that  no  form  was  necessary,  for  the  men  fell 
back,  the  gaard  touched  their  caps,  a  boy  opened  .the  door, 
and,  as  it  closed  behind  me,  I  felt  that  I  was  fakly  started, 
and  Nurse  Periwinkle's  Mission  was  begun. 


.HOSPITAL    SKJiTUlLES. 


CHAPTER  m.      . 

A    DAY. 

"  They've  come  !  they've  come  !  hurry  up,  ladies — you're 
wanted." 

"  Who  have  come?  the  rebels?  " 

This  sudden  summons  in  the  gray  dawn  was  somewhat 
startling  to  a  three  days'  nurse  Hke  myself,  and,  as  the  thun- 
dering knock  came  at  our  door,  I  sprang  up  in  my  bed,  pre- 
pared 

"  To  gird  my  woman's  form. 
And  on  the  ramparts  die," 

if  necessary ;  but  my  room-mate  took  it  more  coolly,  and,  as 
she  began  a  rapid  toilet,  answered  my  bewildered  question, — 

"Bless  you,  no  child;  it's  the  wounded  from  Frederick-s- 
burg ;  forty  ambulances  are  at  the  door,  and  we  shall  have 
our  hands  full  in  fifteen  minutes." 

"  What  shall  we  have  to  do  ?  " 

"  Wash,  dress,  feed,  warm  and  nurse  them  for  the  next 
three  months,  I  dare  say.  Eighty  beds  are  ready,  and  we 
were  getting  impatient  for  the  men  to  come.     Now  you  will 


2C  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

begin  to  see  hospital  life  in  earnest,  for  you  won't  probabiy 
find  time  to  sit  down  all  day,  and  may  think  yourself  fortunate 
if  you  get  to  bed  by  midnight.  Come  to  me  in  the  ball-room 
when  you  are  ready ;  the  worst  cases  are  always  carried  there, 
and  I  shall  need  your  help." 

So  saying,  the  energetic  little  woman  twirled  her  hair  into  a 
button  at  the  back  of  her  head,  in  a  *'  cleared  for  action  "  sort 
of  style,  and  vanished,  wrestling  her  way  into  a  feminine  kind 
of  pea-jacket  as  she  went. 

I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  had  a  realizing  sense  of  the  fact 
that  my  hospital  bed  was  not  a  bed  of  roses  just  then,  or  the 
prospect  before  me  one  of  unmingled  rapture.  My  three 
days'  experiences  had  begun  with  a  death,  and,  owing  to  the 
defalcation  of  another  nurse,  a  somewhat  abrupt  plunge  into 
the  superintendence  of  a  ward  containing  forty  beds,  where  I 
spent  my  shining  hours  washing  faces,  serving  rations,  giving 
medicine,  and  sitting  in  a  very  hard  chair,  with  pneumonia  on 
one  side,  diptheria  on  the  other,  two  typhoids  opposite, 
and  a  dozen  dilapidated  patriots,  hopping,  lying,  and  lounging 
about,  all  staring  more  or  less  at  the  new  "  nuss,"  who  suffer- 
ed untold  agonies,  but  concealed  them  under  as  matronly  an 
aspect  as  a  spinster  could  assume,  and  blundered  through  her 
trying  labors  with  a  Spartan  firmness,  which  I  hope  they  ap- 
preciated, but  am  afraid  they  didn't.  Having  a  taste  for 
''  ghastliness,"  I  had  rather  longed  for  the  wounded  to  arrive, 
for  rheumatism  wasn't  heroic,  neither  was  liver  complaint,  or 
measles ;  even  fever  had  lost  its  charms  since  "  bathing  burn- 
ing brows  '  had  been  used  up  in  romances,  real  and  ideal. 
But  when  I  peeped  into  the  dusky  street  lined  with  what  I  at 
first  had  innocently  called  market  carts,  now  unloading  their 
sad  freight  at  our  door,  I  recalled  sundry  reminiscences  I  had 
heard  from  nurses  of  longer  standing,  my  ardor  experienced  a 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  27 

sudden  chill,  and  I  indulged  in  a  most  unpatriotic  wish  that  I 
was  safe  at  home  again,  with  a  quiet  day  before  me,  and  no 
necessity  for  being  hustled  up,  as  if  I  were  a  hen  and  had 
only  to  hop  off  ray  roost,  give  my  plumage  a  peck,  and  be 
ready  for  action.  A  second  bang  at  the  door  sent  this  recreant 
desire  to  the  right  about,  as  a  little  woolly  head  popped  in, 
and  Joey,  (a  six  years'  old  contraband,)  announced — 

"  Miss  Blank  is  jes'  wild  fer  ye,  and  says  fly  round  right 
away.  They's  comin'  in,  I  tell  yer,  heaps  on  'em- — one  was 
took  out  dead,  and  I  see  him, — hi !  warn't  he  a  goner  !  " 

AVith  which  cheerful  intelligence  the  imp  scuttled  away, 
sincrinor  like  a  blackbird,  and  I  followed,  feelino;  that  Richard 
was  not  himself  again,  and  wouldn't  be  for  a  long  time  to 
come. 

The  first  thing  I  met  was  a  regiment  of  the  vilest  odors 
that  ever  assaulted  the  human  nose,  and  took  it  by  storm. 
Cologne,  with  its  seven  and  seventy  evil  savors,  was  a  posy- 
bed  to  it ;  and  the  worst  of  this  affliction  was,  every  one  had 
assured  me  that  it  was  a  chronic  weakness  of  all  hospitiils, 
and  I  must  bear  it.  I  did,  armed  with  lavender  water,  with 
which  I  so  besprinkled  myself  and  premises,  that  I  was 
soon  known  among  my  patients  as  "the  nurse  with  the 
bottle."  Having  been  run  over  by  three  excited  surgeons, 
bumped  against  by  migratory  coal-hods,  water-pails,  and. 
small  boys,  nearly  scalded  by  an  avalanche  of  newly-filled 
tea-pots,  and  hopelessly  entangled  in  a  knot  of  colored 
sisters  coming  to  wash,  I  progressed  by  slow  stages  up  stairs 
and  down,  till  the  main  hall  was  reached,  and  I  paused  to 
take  breath  and  a  survey.  There  they  were!  "our  brave 
boys,"  as  the  papers  justly  call  them,  for  cowards  could  hard- 
ly have  been  so  riddled  with  shot  and  shell,  so  torn  and  shat- 
tered, nor  have  borne  suffering  for  which  we  have  no   name. 


28  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

with  an  uncomplaining  fortitude,  which  made  one  glad  to 
cherish  each  like  abrother.  In  they  came,  some  on  stretchers, 
some  in  men's  arms,  some  feebly  staggering  along  propped  on 
rude  crutches,  and  one  lay  stark  and  still  with  covered  face, 
as  a  comrade  gave  his  name  to  be  recorded  before  they  carried 
him  away  to  the  dead  house.  All  was  hurry  and  confusion  ; 
the  hall  was  full  of  these  wrecks  of  humanity,  for  the  most 
exhausted  could  not  reach  a  bed  till  duly  ticketed  and  regis- 
tered ;  the  walls  were  lined  with  rows  of  such  as  could  sit, 
the  floor  covered  with  the  more  disabled,  the  steps  md  door- 
ways filled  with  helpers  and  lookers  on  ;  the  sound  of  many 
feet  and  voices- made  that  usually  quiet  hour  as  noisy  as  noon  ; 
and,  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  the  matron's  motherly  face  brought 
more  comfort  to  many  a  poor  soul,  than  the  cordial  draughts 
she  administered,  or  the  cheery  words  that  welcomed  all,  mak- 
ing of  the  hospital  a  home. 

The  sight  of  several  stretchers,  each  with  its  legless,  arm- 
less, or  desperately  wounded  occupant,  entering  my  ward, 
admonished  me  that  I  was  there  to  work,  not  to  wonder  or 
weep  ;  so  I  corked  up  my  feelings,  and  returned  to  the  path 
of  duty,  which  was  rather  "  a  hard  road  to  travel  "  just  then. 
The  house  had  been  a  hotel  before  hospitals  were  needed,  and 
many  of  the  doors  still  bore  their  old  names ;  some  not  so 
inappropriate  as  might  be  imagined,  for  that  ward  was  in  truth 
a  hall-room,  if  gun-shot  wounds  could  christen  it.  Forty  beds 
were  prepared,  many  already  tenanted  by  tired  men  who  fell 
down  anywhere,  and  drowsed  till  the  smell  of  food  roused 
them.  Round  the  great  stove  was  gathered  the  dreariest 
group  I  ever  saw — ragged,  gaunt  and  pale,  mud  to  the  knees, 
with  bloody  bandages  untouched  since  put  on  days  before  ; 
many  bundled  up  in  blankets,  coats  being  lost  or  useless ;  and 
all  wearinfr  that  disheartened  look  which  proclaimed  defeat, 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  29 

more  plainly  than  any  telegram  of  the  Burnside  blunder.  1 
pitied  them  so  much,  I  dared  not  speak  to  them,  though,  re- 
membering all  they  had  been  through  since  the  fight  at  Fred, 
ericksburg,  I  yearned  to  serve  the  dreariest  of  them 
all.  Presently,  Miss  Blank  tore  me  from  my  refuge  behind 
piles  of  one-sleeved  shirts,,  odd  socks,  bandages  and  lint ;  put 
basin,  sponge,  towels,  and  a  block  of  brown  soap  into  my 
hands,  with  these  appalling  directions : 

"  Come,  my  dear,  begin  to  wash  as  fast  as  you  can.  Tell 
them  to  take  off  socks,  coats  and  shirts,  scrub  them  well,  put 
on  clean  shirts,  and  the  attendants  will  finish  them  oflf,  and 
lay  them  in  bed." 

If  she  had  requested  me  to  shave  them  all,  or  dance  a 
hornpipe  on  the  stove  funnel,  I  should  have  been  less  stag- 
gered ;  but  to  scrub  some  dozen  lords  of  creation  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice,  was  really — really .     However,  there  was 

no  time  for  nonsense,  and,  having  resolved  when  I  came  to  do 
everything  I  was  bid,  I  drowned  my  scruples  in  my  wash- 
bowl, clutched  my  soap  manfully,  and,  assuming  a  business- 
like air,  made  a  dab  at  the  first  dirty  specimen  I  saw,  bent  on 
performing  my  task  vi  et  armis  if  necessary.  I  chanced  to 
lif^ht  on  a  withered  old  Irishman,  wounded  in  the  head,  which 
caused  that  portion  of  his  frame  to  be  tastefully  laid  out  like  a 
garden,  the  bandages  being  the  walks,  his  hair  the  shrubbery. 
He  was  so  overpowered  by  the  honor  of  having  a  lady  wash 
him,  as  he  expressed  it,  that  he  did  nothing  but  roll  up  his 
eyes,  and  bless  me,  in  an  irresistible  style  which  was  too  much 
for  my  sense  of  the  ludicrous ;  so  we  laughed  together,  and 
when  I  knelt  down  to  take  off  his  shoes,  he  "  flopped"  also, 
and  wouldn't  hear  of  my  touching  "  them  dirty  craters.  May 
your  bed  above  be  aisy  darlin',  for  the  day's  work  ye  are  doon  ! 
—Whoosh  !   there  ye  are,  and  bedad,  it's  hard  tellin'  which  is 


30  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

the  dirtiest,  the  fut  or  the  shoe."  It  was  ;  and  if  ho  hadn't 
been  to  the  fore,  I  should  have  gone  on  jjulling,  under  the 
impression  that  the  "fut"  was  a  boot,  for  trousers,  socks, 
shoes  and  legs  were  a  mass  of  mud.  This  comical  tableau 
produced  a  general  grin,  at  which  propitious  beginning  I  took 
heart  and  scrubbed  away  like  any  tidy  parent  on  a  Saturday 
night.  Some  of  them  took  the  performance  like  sleepy  chil- 
dren, leaning  their  tired  heads  against  me  as  T  worked,  others 
looked  grimly  scandalized,  and  several  of  the  roughest  colored 
like  bashful  girls.  One  wore  a  soiled  little  bag  about  his 
neck,  and,  as  T  moved  it,  to  bathe  his  wounded  breast,  I  said, 

"  Your  talisman  didn't  save  you,  did  it?  " 

"  Well,  I  reckon  it  did,  marm,  for  that  shot  would  a  gone 
a  couple  a  inches  deeper  but  for  my  old  mammy's  camphor 
bag,"  answered  the  cheerful  philosopher. 

Another,  with  a  gun-shot  wound  through  the  cheek,  asked 
for  a  looking-glass,  and  when  I  brought  one,  regarded  his 
swollen  face  with  a  dolorous  expression,  as  he  muttered — 

"  I  vow  to  gosh,  that's  too  bad  !  I  warn't  a  bad  looking 
chap  before,  and  now  I'm  done  for  ;  won't  there  bo  a  thun- 
derin'  scar  ?  and  what  on  earth  will  Josephine  Skinner  say  V* 

He  looked  up  at  me  with  his  one  eye  so  apjDealingly.  that  1 
controlled  my  risibles,  and  assured  him  that  if  Josephine  was 
a  girl  of  sense,  she  would  admire  the  honorable  scar,  as  a 
lasting  proof  that  he  had  faced  the  enemy,  for  all  women 
thought  a  wound  the  best  decoration  a  brave  soldier  could 
wear.  I  hope  Miss  Skinner  verified  the  good  opinion  I  so 
rashly  expressed  of  her,  but  I  shall  never  know. 

The  next  scrubbee  was  a  nice-looking  lad,  with  a  curly 
brown  mane,  honest  blue  eyes,  and  a  merry  mouth.  He 
lay  on  a  bed,  with  one  leg  gone,  and  the  right  arm  so 
shattered   that  it  must  evidently  follow  :  yet  the  little  ser- 


HOSPITAL     SKETCHES.  31 

goant  was  as  merry  as  if  his  afflictions  were  not  worth 
lamenting  over;  and  when  a  drop  or  two  of  salt  water 
mingled  with  my  suds  at  the  sight  of  this  strong  young  body, 
so  niarred  and  maimed,  the  boy  looked  up,  with  T  brave 
smile,  though  there  was  a  little  quiver  of  the  lips,  as  he 
said, 

"Now  don't  you  fret  yourself  about  me,  miss;  I'm  first 
rate  here,  for  it's  nuts  to  lie  still  on  this  bed,  after  knocking 
about  in  those  confounded  ambulances,  that  shake  what  there 
is  lett  of  a  fellow  to  jelly.  I  never  was  in  one  of  these  places 
before,  and  think  this  cleaning  up  a  jolly  thing  for  us,  though 
I'm  afiaid  it  isn't  for  you  ladies." 

'•  Is  this  your  first  battle.  Sergeant  ?" 
*•  Xo,  miss;  I've  been  in  six  scrimmages,  and  never  got  a 
scratch  till  this  last  one  ;  but  it's  done  the  business  pretty 
thoroughly  for  me,  I  should  say.  Lord  !  what  a  scramble 
there'll  be  for  arms  and  legs,  when  we  old  boys  come  out  of 
our  graves,  on  the  Judgment  Day  :  wonder  if  we  shall  get 
our  own  again  ?  If  we  do,  my  leg  will  have  to  tramp  from 
Fredericksburg,  my  arm  from  here,  I  suppose,  and  meet  my 
body,  wherever  it  may  be." 

The  fancy  seemed  to  tickle  him  mightily,  for  he  laughed 
blithely,  and  so  did  I ;  which,  no  doubt,  caused  the  new  nurse 
to  be  regarded  as  a  light-minded  sinner  by  the  Chaplain,  who 
roamed  vaguely  about,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  preach- 
ing resignation  to  cold,  hungry,  wounded  men,  and  evidently 
feeling  himself,  what  he  certainly  was,  the  wrong  man  in  the 
wrong  place. 

"  I  say,  Mrs.  !  "  called  a  voice  behind  me ;  and,  turning,  I 
saw  a  rough  Michigander,  with  an  arm  blown  off  at  the  shoul- 
der, and  two  or  three  bullets  still  in  him  —  as  he  afterwards 


32  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

mentioned,  as  carelessly  as  if  gentlemen  were  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  such  trifles  about  with  them.  I  went  to  him,  and, 
while  administering  a  dose  of  soap  and  water,  he  whispered, 
irefully : 

"  That  red-headed  devil,  over  yonder,  is  a  reb,  hang  him ! 
He's  got  shet  of  a  foot,  or  he'd  a  cut  like  the  rest  of  the  lot. 
Don't  you  wash  him,  nor  feed  him,  but  jest  let  him  holler  till 
he's  tii'ed.  It's  a  blasted  shame  to  fetch  them  fellers  in  here, 
along  side  of  us ;  and  so  I'll  tell  the  chap  that  bosses  this 
concern ;  cuss  me  if  I  don't. 

I  regret  to  say  that  I  did  not  deliver  a  moral  sermon  upon 
the  duty  of  forgiviog  our  enemies,  and  the  sin  of  profanity, 
then  and  there;  but,  being  a  red-hot  Abolitionist,  stared 
fixedly  at  the  tall  rebel,  who  was  a  copperhead,  in  every  sense 
of  the  word,  and  privately  resolved  to  put  soap  in  his  eyes, 
rub  his  nose  the  wrong  way,  and  excoriate  his  cuticle  gener- 
ally, if  I  had  the  washing  of  him. 

My  amiable  intentions,  however,  were  frustrated ;  for,  when 
I  approached,  with  as  Christian  an  expression  as  my  principles 
would  allow,  and  asked  the  questioL — "  Shall  I  try  to  make 
you  more  comfortable,  sir?"  all  I  got  for  my  pains  was  a 
gruff — 

"No;   I'll  do  it  myself." 

*'  Here's  your  Southern  chivalry,  with  a  witness,"  thought 
I,  dumping  the  basin  down  before  him,  thereby  quenching  a 
strong  desire  to  give  him  a  summary  baptism,  in  return  for  his 
ungraciousness ;  for  my  angry  passions  rose,  at  this  rebuff,  in 
a  way  that  would  have  scandalized  good  Dr.  Watts.  He  was 
a  disappointment  in  all  respects,  (the  rebel,  not  the  blessed 
Doctor,)  for  he  was  neither  fiendish,  romantic,  pathetic,  or 
anything  interesting;   but  a  long,  fat  man,  with  a  head  like  a 


UOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  83 

burning  bush,  and  a  perfectly  expressionless  face  :  so  T  could 
dislike  liiui  without  the  slightest  drawback,  and  ignored  his 
existence  from  that  day  forth.  One  redeeming  trait  he  certainly 
did  possess,  as  the  floor  speedily  testified ;  for  his  ablutions 
were  so  vigorou.-^ly  performed,  that  his  bed  soon  stood  like  an 
isolated  island,  in  a  sea  of  soap-suds,  and  he  resembled  a 
dripping  merman,  suiFcring  from  the  loss  of  a  fin.  If  clean- 
liness is  a  near  neighbor  to  godliness,  then  was  the  big  rebel 
the  godliest  man  in  my  ward  that  day. 

Having  done  up  our  human  wash,  and  laid  it  out  to  dry,  the 
second  syllable  of  our  version  of  the  wordWar-fare  was  enacted 
with  much  success.  Great  trays  of  bread,  meat,  soup  and 
cofifee  appeared ;  and  both  nurses  and  attendants  turned 
waiters,  serving  bountiful  rations  to  all  who  could  eat.  I  can 
call  my  pinafore  to  testify  to  my  good  will  in  the  work,  for  in 
ten  minutes  it  was  reduced  to  a  perambulating  bill  of  fare,  pre- 
senting samples  of  all  the  refreshments  going  or  gone.  It  was 
a  lively  scene ;  the  long  room  lined  with  rows  of  beds,  each 
filled  by  an  occupant,  whom  water,  shears,  and  clean  raiment 
had  transformed  from  a  dismal  ragamuffin  into  a  recumbent 
hero,  with  a  cropped  head.  To  and  fro  rushed  matrons,  maids, 
and  convalescent  "  boys,"  skirmishing  with  knives  and  forks; 
retreating  with  empty  plates ;  marching  and  counter-marching, 
with  unvaried  success,  while  the  clash  of  busy  spoons  made 
most  inspiring  music  for  the  charge  of  our  Light  Brigade : 

"  Bc<ls  to  the  front  of  them, 
Beds  to  the  riirht  of  them, 
Beds  'o  tlic  left  of  them, 

Nobody  blundered. 
Beamed  at  by  hungry  sonls, 
Sereamed  at  wiih  brimming  bowls. 
Steamed  at  by  army  rolls, 

Buttered  and  sundered. 
With  coffee  not  cannon  plied, 
Each  must  be  satisfied, 
Whether  they  lived  or  died; 

All  the  men  wondered." 


34  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

Very  welcome  seemed  the  generous  mtal,  after  a  week  of 
suffering,  exposure,  and  short  commons ;  soon  the  brown  faces 
began  to  smile,  as  food,  warmth,  and  rest,  did  their  pleasant 
work  ;  and  the  grateful  "  Thankcc's  "  were  followed  by  more 
graphic  accounts  of  the  battle  and  retreat,  than  any  paid 
reporter  could  have  given  us.  Curious  contrasts  of  the  tragic 
and  comic  met  one  everywhere  ;  and  some  touching  as  well  as 
ludicrous  episodes,  might  have  been  recorded  that  day.  A 
six  foot  New  Hampshire  man,  with  a  leg  broken  and  perforated 
by  a  piece  of  shell,  so  large  that,  had  I  not  seen  the  wound,  I 
should  have  regarded  the  stoiyas  a  Munchausenism,  beckoned 
me  to  come  and  help  him,  as  he  could  not  sit  up,  and  both  his 
bed  and  beard  were  getting  plentifully  anointed  with  soup. 
As  I  fed  my  big  nestling  with  corresponding  mouthfuls,  I 
asked  him  how  he  felt  during  the  battle. 

"  Well,  'twas  my  fust,  you  see,  so  I  aint  ashamed  to  say  I 
was  a  trifle  flustered  in  the  beginnin',  there  was  such  an  allfired 
racket;  for  ef  there's  anything  I  do  spleen  agin,  it's  noise. 
But  when  my  mate,  Eph  Sylvester,  fell,  with  a  bullet  through 
his  head,  I  got  mad,  and  pitched  in,  licketty  cut.  Our  part 
of  the  fight  didn't  last  long;  so  a  lot  of  us  larked  round 
Fredericksburg,  and  give  some  of  them  houses  a  pretty  con- 
sid'able  of  a  rummage,  till  we  was  ordered  out  of  the  mess. 
Some  of  our  fellows  cut  like  time  ;  but  I  warn't  a-goin  to  run 
for  nobody;  and,  fust  thing  I  knew,  a  shell  bust,  right  in 
front  of  us,  and  I  keeled  over,  feelin'  as  if  I  was  biowed 
higher'n  a  kite.  I  sung  out,  and  the  boys  come  back  for  me, 
double  quick  ;  but  the  way  they  chucked  me  over  them  fences 
was  a  caution,  I  tell  you.  Next  day  I  was  most  as  black  as 
that  darkey  yonder,  lickin'  plates  on  the  sly.  This  is  bully 
coffee,  ain't  it  ?  Give  us  another  pull  at  it,  and  I'll  be  obleeged 
to  you." 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  35 

I  did  ;  and,  as  the  last  gulp  subsided,  he  said,  with  a  rub 
of  hi«  old  haiulkerchief  over  cjcs  as  well  as  mouth  : 

"  Look  a  here;  I've  got  a  pair  a  earbobs  and  a  handkercher 
pin  I'm  a  goin'  to  give  you,  if  you'll  have  them  ;  for  you're 
the  very  moral  o'  Lizy  Sylvester,  poor  Eph's  wife  :  that's  why 
I  signalled  you  to  come  over  here.  They  aint  much,  I  guess, 
but  they'll  do  to  memorize  the  rebs  by." 

Burrowing  under  his  pillow,  he  produced  a  little  bundle  of 
what  he  called  "  truck,"  and  gallantly  presented  me  with  a 
pair  of  earrings,  each  representing  a  cluster  of  corpulent 
grapes,  and  the  pin  a  basket  of  astonishing  fruit,  the  whole 
large  and  coppery  enough  for  a  small  warming-pan.  Feeling 
delicate  about  depriving  him  of  such  valuable  relics,  I  accepted 
the  earrings  alone,  and  was  obliged  to  depart,  somewhat 
abruptly,  when  my  friend  stuck  the  warming-pan  in  the  bosom 
of  his  night-gown,  viewing  it  with  much  complacency,  and, 
perhaps,  some  tender  memory,  in  that  rough  heart  of  his,  for 
the  comrade  he  had  lost. 

Observing  that  the  man  next  him  had  left  his  meal  untouched, 
I  offered  the  same  service  I  had  performed  for  his  neighbor, 
but  he  shook  his  head. 

'^  Thank  you,  ma'am  ;  I  don't  think  I'll  ever  eat  again,  for 
I'm  shot  in  the  stomach.  But  I'd  like  a  drink  of  water,  if 
you  aint  too  busy." 

I  rushed  away,  but  the  water-pails  were  gone  to  be  refilled, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  they  reappeared.  I  did  not  for- 
get my  patient  patient,  meanwhile,  and,  with  the  first  mugful, 
huriicd  back  to  him.  He  seemed  asleep ;  but  something  in 
the  tired  white  face  caused  me  to  listen  at  his  lips  for  a  breath. 
None  came.  I  touched  his  forehead  ;  it  was  cold  :  and  then  I 
knew  that,  while  he  waited,  a  better  nurse  than  I  had  given 
him  a  cooler  draught,  and  healed  him  with  a  touch.     I  laid 

o 


36  HOSPITAL    SKKTCliKS. 

the  sheet  over  the  quiet  sleeper,  whom  no  noise  could  now 
disturb ;  and,  half  an  hour  later,  the  bed  was  empty.  It 
seemed  a  poor  requital  for  all  he  had  sacrificed  and  suffered, 
— that  hospital  bed,  lonely  even  in  a  crowd  ;  for  there  was  no 
familiar  face  for  him  to  look  his  last  upon  ;  no  friendly  voice 
to  say,  Good  bye  ;  no  band  to  lead  him  gently  down  into  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  ;  and  he  vanished,  like  a  drop  in  that 
red  sea  upon  whose  shores  so  many  women  stand  lamenting. 
For  a  moment  I  felt  bitterly  indignant  at  this  seeming  care- 
lessness of  the  value  of  life,  the  sanctity  of  death  ;  then  con- 
soled myself  with  the  thought  that,  when  the  great  muster 
roll  was  called,  these  nameless  men  might  be  promoted  above 
many  whose  tall  monuments  record  the  barren  honors  they 
have  won. 

All  having  eaten,  drank,  and  rested,  the  surgeons  began 
their  rounds ;  and  I  took  my  first  lesson  in  the  art  of  dressing 
wounds.  It  wasn't  a  festive  scene,  by  any  means ;  for  Dr. 
P..  whose  Aid  I  constituted  myself,  fell  to  work  with  a  vigor 
which  soon  convinced  me  that  I  was  a  weaker  vessel,  though 
nothing  would  have  induced  me  to  confess  it  then.  He  had 
served  in  the  Crimea,  and  seemed  to  regard  a  dilapidated  body 
very  much  as  I  should,,  have  regarded  a  damaged  garment ; 
and,  turning  up  his  cuffs,  whipped  out  a  very  unpleasant  look- 
ing housewife,  cutting,  sawing,  patching  and  piecing,  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  an  accom^Dlished  surgical  seamstress;  explaining 
the  process,  in  scientific  terms,  to  the  patient,  meantime ; 
which,  of  course,  was  immensely  cheering  and  comfortable. 
There  was  an  uncanny  sort  of  fascination  in  watching  him,  as 
he  peered  and  probed  into  the  mechanism  of  those  wonderful 
bodies,  whose  mysteries  he  understood  so  well.  The  more 
intricate  the  wound,  the  better  he  liked  it.  A  poor  private, 
with  botb  legs  off,  and  shot  through  the  lungs,  possessed  more 


HOSPITAL   SKETCnJSS. 


37 


attractions  for  him  than  a  dozen  generals,  sligbtly  scratched  in 
some  "  masterly  retreat ;"  and  had  anyone  appeared  in  small 
pieces,  requesting  to  be  put  together  again,  he  would  have 
considered  it  a  special  dispensation. 

The  amputations  were  reserved  till  the  morrow,  and  tho 
merciful  magic  of  ether  was  not  thought  necessary  that  day,  so 
the  poor  souls  had  to  bear  their  pains  as  best  they  might.  It 
is  all  very  well  to  talk  of  the  patience  of  woman  ;  and  far  be 
it  from  me  to  pluck  that  feather  from  her  cap,  for,  heaven 
knows,  she  isn't  allowed  to  wear  many ;  but  the  patient 
endurance  of  these  men,  under  trials  of  the  flesh,  was  truly 
wonderful.  Their  fortitude  seemed  contagious,  and  scarcely  a 
cry  escaped  them,  though  I  often  longed  to  groan  for  them, 
when  pride  kept  their  white  lips  shut,  while  great  drops  stood 
upon  their  foreheads,  and  the  bed  shook  with  the  irrepressible 
tremor  of  their  tortured  bodies.  One  or  two  Irishmen  anath- 
ematized the  doctors  with  the  frankness  of  their  nation,  and 
ordered  the  Virgin  to  stand  by  them,  as  if  she  had  been  the 
wedded  Biddy  to  whom  they  could  administer  the  poker,  if 
she  didn't ;  but,  as  a  general  thing,  the  work  went  on  in 
silence,  broken  only  Ly  some  quiet  request  for  roller,  instru- 
ments, or  plaster,  a  sigh  from  the  patient,  or  a  sympathizing 
murmur  from  the  nm'se. 

It  was  long  past  noon  before  these  repairs  were  even  par- 
tially made  ;  and,  having  got  the  bodiesof  my  boys  into  some- 
thin  o^  like  order,  the  next  task  was  to  minister  to  their  minds, 
by  writing  letters  to  the  anxious  souls  at  home ;  answering 
questions,  reading  papers,  taking  possession  of  money  and 
valuables ;  for  the  eighth  commandmnnt  was  reduced  to  a 
very  fragmentary  condition,  both  by  the  blacks  and  whites, 
who  ornamented  our  hospital  with  their  presence.  Pocket 
books,   purses,    miniatures,    and   watches,    were   sealed   up. 


38  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

labelled,  and  handed  over  to  the  matron,  till  such  times  as  the 
owners  theveof  were  ready  to  depart  homeward  or  campward 
again.  The  letters  dictated  to  me,  and  revised  by  me,  that 
afternoon,  would  have  made  an  excellent  chapter  for  some 
future  history  of  the  war;  for,  like  that  which  Thackeray's 
"  Ensign  Spooney  "  wrote  his  mother  just  before  Waterloo, 
they  were  "  full  of  affection,  pluck,  and  bad  spelling  ;''  nearly 
all  giving  lively  accounts  of  the  battle,  and  ending  with  a 
somewhat  sudden  plunge  from  patriotism  to  provender ,  desir- 
ing '*  Marm,"  "  Mnry  Ann,"  cr  "  Aunt  Peters,"  to  send 
along  some  pies,  pickles,  sweet  stuff,  and  apples,  "  to  yourn  in 
haste,"  Jue,  Sam,  or  Ned,  as  the  case  might  be. 

My  little  Sergeant  insisted  on  trying  to  scribble  something 
with  his  left  hand,  and  patiently  accomplished  some  half  dozen 
lines  of  hieroglyphics,  which  he  gave  me  to  fold  and  direct, 
with  a  boyish  blush,  that  rendered  a  glimpse  of  "  My  Dearest 
Jane,"  unnecessciry,  to  assure  me  that  the  heroic  lad  had  been 
more  successful  in  the  service  of  Commander-in-Chief  Cupid 
than  that  of  Gen.  Mars  ;  and  a  charming  little  romance  blos- 
somed instanter  in  Nurse  Periwinkle's  romantic  fjincy,  though 
no  further  confidences  were  made  that  day,  for  Sergeant  fell 
asleep,  and,  judging  from  his  tranquil  face,  visited  his  absent 
sweetheart  in  the  pleasant  land  of  dreams. 

At  five  o'clock  a  great  bell  rang,  and  the  attendants  flew, 
not  to  arms,  but  to  their  trays,  to  bring  up  supper,  when  a 
second  uproar  announced  that  it  was  ready.  The  new  comers 
woke  at  the  sound  ;  and  I  presently  discovered  that  it  took  a 
very  bud  wound  to  incapacitate  the  defenders  of  the  faith  for 
the  consumption  of  their  rations ;  the  amount  that  some  of 
them  sequestered  was  amazing  ;  but  when  I  suggested  the 
probability  of  a  famine  hereafter,  to  the  matron,  that  motherly 
lad5  cried  out :  "  Bless  their  hearts,  why  shouldn't  they  eat  ? 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  3D 

It's  their  only  amuscmnnt ;  so  fill  evciy  one,  and,  if  there's 
not  enough  ready  to-night,  I'll  lend  my  share  to  the  Lord  by 
giving  it  to  the  boys."  And,  whipping  up  her  coffee-pot  and 
plate  of  toast,  she  gladdened  the  eyes  and  stomachs  of  two  or 
three  dissatisfied  heroes,  by  serving  them  with  a  liberal  hand  ; 
and  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that,  having  cast  her  bread 
upon  the  waters,  it  came  back  buttered,  as  another  large- 
hearted  old  lady  was  wont  to  say. 

Then  came  the  doctor's  evening  visit ;  the  administiation  of 
medicines  ;  washing  feverish  faces ;  smoothing  tumbled  beds  ; 
wetting  wounds ;  singing  lullabies  ;  and  preparations  for  the 
night.  By  twelve,  the  last  labor  of  love  was  done  ;  the  last 
♦'  good  night "  spoken  ;  and,  if  any  needed  a  reward  for  that 
day's  work,  they  surely  received  it,  in  the  silent  eloquence  of 
those  long  lines  of  f^ices,  showing  pale  and  peaceful  in  the 
shaded  rooms,  as  we  quitted  them,  followed  by  grateful  glances 
that  lighted  us  to  bed,  where  rest,  the  sweetest,  made  our  pil- 
lows soft,  while  Night  and  Nature  took  our  places,  filling  that 
great  house  of  pain  with  the  healing  miracles  of  Sleep,  and 
his  diviner  brother,  Death. 


40 


Uusi'iTAL    SKLTCUJia. 


CHAPTER  ly. 

A   NIGHT. 

Being  fond  of  the  night  side  of  nature,  I  was  soon  promoted 
to  the  post  of  night  nurse,  with  every  facility  for  indulging  in 
my  favorite  pastime  of  "  owling."  My  colleague,  a  black- 
eyed  widow,  relieved  me  at  dawn,  we  two  taking  care  of 
the  ward  between  us,  like  regular  nurses,  turn  and  turn 
about.  I  usually  found  my  boys  in  the  jolliest  state  of 
mind  their  condition  allowed ;  for  it  was  a  known  fact  that 
Nurse  Periwinkle  objected  to  blue  devils,  and  entertained  a 
belief  that  he  who  laughed  most  was  surest  of  recovery.  At 
the  beginning  of  my  reign,  dumps  and  dismals  prevailed ;  the 
nurses  looked  anxious  nnd  tired,  the  men  gloomy  or  sad  ;  and  a 
general  "  Hark  !-from-the-tombs-a-doleful-sound  "style  of  con- 
versation seemed  to  be  the  fashion  :  a  state  of  things  which 
caused  one  coming  from  a  merry,  social  New  England  town,  to 
feel  as  if  she  had  got  into  an  exhausted  receiver ;  and  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation,  to  say  nothing  of  a  philanthropic 
desire  to  serve  the  race,  caused  a  speedy  change  in  Ward 
No.  1. 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.  41 

More  flattering  than  the  most  gracefully  turned  compliment, 
more  grateful  than  the  most  arlmiring  glance,  was  the  sight  of 
those  rows  of  faces,  all  strange  to  me  a  little  while  ago,  now 
lighting  up,  with  smiles  of  welcome,  as  I  came  among  them, 
enjoying  that  moment  heartily,  with  a  womanly  pride  in  their 
regard,  a  motherly  affection  for  them  all.  The  evenings  were 
spent  in  reading  aloud,  writing  letters,  waiting  on  and  amusing 
the  men,  going  the  rounds  with  Dr.  P.,  as  he  made  his  second 
daily  survey,  dressing  my  dozen  wounds  afresh,  giving  last 
doses,  and  making  them  cozy  for  the  long  hours  to  come,  till 
the  nine  o'clock  bell  rang,  the  gas  was  turned  down,  the  day 
nurses  went  off  duty,  the  night  watch  came  on,  and  my  noc- 
turnal adventures  began. 

My  ward  was  now  divided  into  three  rooms;  and,  under 
favor  of  the  matron,  I  had  managed  to  sort  out  the  patients  in 
such  a  way  that  I  had  what  I  called,  "  my  duty  room,"  my 
"  pleasure  room,"  and  my  "  pathetic  room,"  and  worked  for 
each  in  a  different  way.  One,  I  visited,  armed  with  a  dressing 
tray,  full  of  rollers,  plasters,  and  pins ;  another,  with  books, 
flowers,  games,  and  gossip ;  a  third,  with  teapots,  lullabies, 
consolation,  and,  sometimes,  a  shroud. 

Wherever  the  sickest  or  most  helpless  man  chanced  to  be, 
there  I  held  my  watch,  often  visiting  the  other  rooms,  to  see 
that  the  general  watchm.an  of  the  ward  did  his  duty  by  the 
fires  and  the  wounds,  the  latter  needing  constant  wetting. 
Not  only  on  this  account  did  I  meander,  but  also  to  get  fresh- 
er air  than  the  close  rooms  afforded  ;  for,  owing  to  the  stupid- 
ity of- that  mysterious  "  somebody  "  who  does  all  the  damage 
in  the  world,  the  windows  had  been  carefully  nailed  down 
above,  and  the  lower  sashes  could  only  be  raised  in  the  mildest 
weather,  for  the  men  lay  just  below.  I  had  suggested  a  sum- 
mary smashing  of  a  few  panes  here  and  there,  when  frequent 


42  HOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 

appeals  to  headquarters  had  proved  unavailing,  and  daily 
orders  to  lazy  attendants  had  come  to  nothing.  No  one  sec- 
onded the  motion,  however,  and  the  nails  were  far  beyond  my 
reach  ;  for,  though  belonging  to  the  sisterhood  of  "  ministering 
ani^els,"  I  had  no  wings,  and  might  as  well  have  asked  for 
a  suspension  bridge,  as  a  pair  of  steps,  in  that  charitable 
chaos. 

One  of  the  harmless  ghosts  who  bore  me  company  during 

the  haunted  hours,  was  Dan,  the  watchman,  whom  I  reganled 

with  a  certain  awe  ;  for,  though  so  much   together,  I  never 

fairly  saw  his  face,  and,  but  fur  his  legs,  should  never  have 

recognized  him,  as  we  seldom  met  by  day.     These  legs  were 

remarkable,  as  was  his  whole  figure,  for  his  body  was  short, 

rotund,  and  done  up  in  a  big  jacket,  and  muffler ;  his  beard 

hid  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  his  hat-brim  the  upper ;  and  all 

I  ever  discovered  was  a  pair  of  sleepy  eyes,  and  a  very  mild 

voice.     But  the  legs  !  —  very  long,  very  thin,   very  crooked 

and  feeble,  looking  like  gray  sausages  in  their  tight  coverings, 

and  finished  off  with  a  pair  of  expansive,  green  cloth  shoes, 

very  like   Chinese  junks  with  the  sails  down.     This  figure, 

gliding    noiselessly    about    the    dimly-lighted    rooms,    was 

strongly  suggestive  of  the  spirit  of   a  beer-barrel  mounted 

on  cork-screws,  haunting  the  old  hotel  in  search  of  its  lost 

mates,  emptied  and  staved  in  long  ago. 

Another  goblin  who  frequently  appeared  to  me,  was  the 
attendant  of  "the  pathetic  room,"  who,  being  a  faithful  soul, 
was  often  up  to  tend  two  or  three  men,  weak  and  wandering  as 
babies,  after  the  fever  had  gone.  The  amiable  creature  beguiled 
the  watches  of  the  night  by  brewing  jorums  of  a  fearful  bev- 
erao-e,  which  he  called  coffee,  and  insisted  on  sharing  with 
me  ;  coming  in  with  a  great  bowl  of  something  like  mud 
feoup,  scald'ng  hot,  guiltless  of  cream,  rich  in  an  all-pervading 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.  4J 

flavor  of  molasses,  scorch  and  tin  pot.  Sucb  an  amount  of 
good  will  and  neighborly  kindness  also  went  into  the  mess, 
that  I  never  could  lind  the  heart  to  refuse,  but  always  received 
it  with  thanks,  sipped  it  with  hypocritical  reV.sh  while  he 
remained,  and  whipped  it  into  the  slop-jar  the  instant  he 
departed ,  thereby  gratifying  him,  securing  one  rousing  laugh 
in  the  doziest  hour  of  the  night,  and  no  one  was  the  worse  for 
the  transaction  but  the  pigs.  Whether  they  were  *•  cut  off 
untimely  in  their  {.ins,"  or  not,  I  carefully  abstained  from 
inquiring. 

It  was  a  strange  life  —  asleep  half  the  day,  exploring 
Washington  the  other  half,  and  all  night  hovering,  like  a 
massive  cherubim,  in  a  red  rigolette,  over  the  slumbering  sons 
li  man.  I  liked  it,  and  found  many  things  to  amuse,  instmcf, 
and  interest  me.  The  snores  alone  were  quite  a  study,  varying 
from  the  mild  sniff  to  the  stentorian  snort,  which  startled  the 
echoes  and  hoisted  the  performer  erect  to  accuse  his  neighbor 
of  the  deed,  magnanimously  forgive  him,  and,  wrapping  the 
drapery  of  his  couch  about  him,  lie  down  to  vocal  slumber. 
After  hstening  for  a  week  to  this  band  of  wind  instruments,  I 
indulged  in  the  belief  that  I  could  recognize  each  by  the  snore 
alone,  and  was  tempted  to  join  the  chorus  by  breaking  out 
•with  John  Brown's  favorite  hymn  : 

"  Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow!" 
I  would  have  given  much  to  have  possessed  the  art  of 
sketching,  for  many  of  the  faces  became  wonderfully  interest- 
ing when  unconscious.  Some  grew  stern  and  grim,  the  men 
evidently  dreaming  of  war,  as  they  gave  orders,  groaned  over 
their  wounds,  or  damned  the  rebels  vigorously  ;  some  grew  sad 
and  infinitely  pathetic,  as  if  the  pain  borne  silently  all  day,  re- 
venged itself  by  now  betraying  what  the  man's  pride  had  con- 
cealed so  well.     Often  the  roughest  grew  young  and  pleasant 


44  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

when  sleep  smoothed  the  hard  lines  away,  letting  the  real  nature 
assert  itself;  many  almost  seemed  to  speak,  and  I  learned  to 
know  these  men  better  by  night  than  through  any  intercourse 
by  day.  Sometimes  they  disappointed  me,  for  faces  that  looked 
moriy  and  good  in  the  light,  grew  bad  and  sly  when  the  shad- 
ows came ;  and  though  they  made  no  confidences  in  words,  I 
read  their  lives,  leaving  them  to  wonder  at  the  change  of  man- 
ner this  midnight  magic  wrought  in  their  nurse.  A  few  talked 
busily ;  one  drummer  boy  sang  sweetly,  though  no  persuasions 
could  win  a  note  from  him  by  day  ;  and  several  depended  on 
being  told  what  they  had  talked  of  in  the  morning.  Even  my 
constitutionals  in  the  chilly  halls,  possessed  a  certain  charm, 
for  the  house  was  never  still.  Sentinels  tramped  round  it  all 
night  long,  their  muskets  glittering  in  the  wintry  moonlight  as 
they  walked,  or  stood  before  the  doors,  straight  and  silent,  as 
figures  of  stone,  causing  one  to  conjure  up  romantic  visions  of 
guarded  forts,  sudden  surprises,  and  daring  deeds;  for  in 
these  war  times  the  hum  drum  life  of  Yankeedom  has  vanished, 
and  the  most  prosaic  feel  some  thrill  of  that  excitement  which 
stirs  the  nation's  heart,  and  makes  its  capital  a  camp  of  hospit- 
als. Wandering  up  and  down  these  lower  halls,  I  often  heard 
cries  from  above,  steps  hurrying  to  and  fro,  saw  surgeons 
passing  up,  or  men  coming  clown  carrying  a  stretcher,  where 
lay  a  long  white  figure,  whose  face  was  shrouded  and  whoso 
fight  was  done.  Sometimes  I  stopped  to  watch  the  passers  in 
the  street,  the  moonlight  shining  on  the  spire  opposite,  or  the 
gleam  of  some  vessel  floating,  like  a  white-winged  sea-gull, 
down  the  broad  Potomac,  whose  fullest  flow  can  never  wash 
away  the  red  stain  of  the  land. 

The  night  whose  events  I  have  a  fancy  to  record,  opened 
with  a  little  comedy,  and  closed  with  a  great  tragedy  ;  for  a 
virtuous  and  useful  life  untimely  ended  is  always  tragical  to 


HOSPITAL   SKETCUES.  45 

those  who  see  not  as  God  sees.  My  headquarters  were  beside 
the  bed  of  a  New  Jersey  boy,  crazed  by  the  horrors  of  that 
dreadful  Saturday.  A  slight  wound  in  the  knee  brought  him 
there  ;  but  his  mind  had  suffered  more  than  bis  body  ;  some 
Btring  of  that  delicate  machine  was  over  strained,  and,  for 
days,  he  had  been  re-living  in  imagination,  the  scenes  he  could 
not  forget,  till  his  distress  broke  out  in  incoherent  ravings, 
pitiful  to  hear.  As  I  sat  by  him,  endeavoring  to  soothe  his 
poor  distracted  brain  by  the  constant  touch  of  wet  hands  over 
his  hot  forehead,  he  lay  cheering  his  comrades  on,  hurrying 
them  back,  then  counting  them  as  they  fell  around  him,  often 
clutching  my  arm,  to  drag  me  from  the  vicinity  of  a  bursting 
shell,  or  covering  up  his  head  to  screen  himself  from  a  shower 
of  shot;  his  face  brilliant  with  fever;  his  eyes  restless;  his 
head  never  still ;  every  muscle  strained  and  rigid ;  while  an 
incessant  stream  of  defiant  shouts,  whispered  warnings,  and 
broken  laments,  poured  from  his  lips  with  that  forceful  bewil- 
derment which  makes  such  wanderings  so  hard  to  overhear. 

It  was  past  eleven,  and  my  patient  was  slowly  wearying 
himself  into  fitful  intervals  of  quietude,  when,  in  one  of  these 
pauses,  a  curious  sound  arrested  my  attention.  Looking  over 
my  shoulder,  I  saw  a  one-legged  phantom  hopping  nimbly 
down  the  room ;  and,  going  to  meet  it,  recognized  a  certain 
Pennsylvania  gentleman,  whose  wound-fever  had  taken  a  turn 
for  the  worse,  and,  depriving  him  of  the  few  wits  a  drunken 
campaign  tad  left  him,  set  him  literally  trip,ing  on  the  light, 
fantastic  toe  "  toward  home,"  as  he  blandly  informed  me, 
touching  the  military  cap  which  formed  a  striking  contrast  to 
the  severe  simplicity  of  the  rest  of  his  undress  uniform. 
"WHien  sane,  the  least  movement  produced  a  roar  of  pain  or 
a  volley  of  oaths ;  but  the  de])arture  of  reason  seemed  to 
have  wrought  an  agreeable  change,  both  in  the  man  and  his 


46  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

manners  ;  for,  balancing  himself  on  cne  leg,  like  a  meditative 
stork,  he  plunged  into  an  animated  discussion  of  the  war,  the 
President,  lager  beer,  and  Enfield  rifles,  regardless  of  any 
suggestions  of  mine  as  to  the  propriety  of  returning  to  bed, 
lest  he  be  court-martialed  for  desertion. 

Any  thing  more  supremely  ridiculous  can  hardly  be  im- 
agined than  this  figure,  all  draped  in  white,  its  one  foot 
covered  with  a  big  blue  sock,  a  dingy  cap  set  rakingly  a^kew 
on  its  shaven  head,  and  placid  satisfaction  beaming  in  its 
broad  red  face,  as  it  flourished  a  mug  in  one  hand,  an  old 
boot  in  the  other,  calling  them  canteen  and  knapsack,  while  it 
skipped  and  fluttered  in  the  most  unearthly  fashion.  What  to 
do  with  the  creature  I  didn't  know  ;  Dan  was  absent,  and  if  I 
went  to  find  him,  the  perambulator  might  festoon  himself  out 
of  the  window,  set  his  toga  on  fire,  or  do  some  of  his  neighbors 
a  mischief.  The  attendant  of  the  room  was  sleeping  like  a 
near  relative  of  the  celebrated  Seven,  and  nothing  short  of 
pins  would  rouse  him  ;  for  he  had  been  out  that  day,  and  whis- 
key asserted  its  supremacy  in  balmy  whiflfs.  Still  declaiming, 
in  a  fine  flow  of  eloquence,  the  demented  gentleman  hopped 
on,  blind  and  deaf  to  my  graspings  and  entreaties ;  and  I 
was  about  to  slam  the  door  in  his  face,  and  run  for  help, 
when  a  second  and  saner  phantom  came  to  the  rescue, 
in  the  likeness  of  a  big  Prussian,  who  spoke  no  English, 
but  divined  the  crisis,  and  put  an  end  to  it,  by  bundling  the 
lively  raonoped  into  his  bed,  like  a  baby,  with  an  authoritative 
command  to  "  stay  put,"  which  received  added  weight  from 
being  delivered  in  an  odd  congh)meration  of  French  and  Ger- 
man, accompanied  by  warning  wags  of  a  head  decorated  with 
a  yellow  cotton  night  cap,  rendered  most  imposing  by  a  tassel 
like  a  bell-pull.  Kather  exhausted  by  his  excursion,  the  mem- 
ber from   Pennsylvania  subsided ;  and,  after  an  irrepressible 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  47 

laugh  togei'ber,  my  Prussian  ally  and  myself  wore  returning 
to  our  places,  when  the  eehe^of  a  sob  caused  us  to  glance  along 
the  beds.  It  came  from  one  in  the  corner  —  such  a  little  bed ! 
—  and  such  a  tearful  little  face  looked  up  at  us,  as  we  stopped 
beside  it !  The  twelve  years  old  drummer  boy  was  not  sing" 
ing  now,  but  sobbing,  with  a  manly  effort  all  the  while  to  stiflo 
the  distressful  sounds  that  would  break  out. 

"What  is  it,  Billy?"  I  asked,  as  he  rubbed  the  tears 
away,  and  checked  himself  in  the  middle  of  a  great  sob  to 
answer  plaintively  : 

"  I've  got  a  chill,  ma'am,  but  I  aint  cryin'  for  that,  'cause 
I'm  used  to  it.  I  dreamed  Kit  was  here,  and  when  I  waked 
up  he  wasn't,  and  I  couldn't  help  it,  then." 

The  boy  came  in  with  the  rest,  and  the  man  who  was  taken 
dead  from  the  ambulance  was  the  Kit  he  mourned.  Well  he 
mifrht  :  for,  when  the  wounded  were  brouo;ht  from  Fredericks- 
burg,  the  child  lay  in  one  of  the  camps  thereabout,  and 
this  good  friend,  though  sorely  hurt  himself,  would  not  leave 
him  to  the  exposure  and  neglect  of  such  a  time  and  place  ; 
but,  wrapping  him  in  his  own  blanket,  carried  him  in  his  arms 
to  the  transport,  tended  him  during  the  passage,  and  only 
yielded  up  his  charge  when  Death  met  him  at  the  door  of 
the  hospital  which  promised  care  and  comfort  for  the  boy. 
For  ten  days,  Billy  had  burned  or  shivered  with  fever  and 
ague,  pining  the  while  for  Kit,  and  refusing  to  be  comforted, 
becauHC  he  had  not  been  able  to  thank  him  for  the  generous 
protection,  which,  perhaps,  had  cost  the  giver's  life.  The 
vivid  dream  had  wrung  the  childish  heart  with  a  fresh  pang, 
and  when  I  tried  the  solace  fitted  for  his  years,  the  remorseful 
fear  that  haunted  him  found  vent  in  a  fresh  burst  of  tears,  as 
he  looked  at  the  wasted  hands  I  was  endeavorinor  to  warm  : 

o 

'  Oh  !  if  I'd  only  been  as  thin  when  Kit  carried  me  as  I  am 


48  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

now,  maybe  he  wouldn't  have  died;  but  I  was  heavy,  he  was 
hurt  worser  than  we  knew,  and  so  it  killed  him  ;  and  I  didn't 
see  him,  to  say  good  bye." 

This  thought  had  troubled  him  in  secret ;  and  my  assur- 
ances that  his  friend  would  probably  have  d.jd  at  all  events, 
hardly  assuaged  the  bitterness  of  his  regretful  grief. 

At  this  juncture,  the  delirious  man  began  to  shout ;  the  one- 
legged  rose  up  in  his  bed,  as  if  preparing  for  another  dart, 
Billy  bewailed  himself  more  pi^eously  than  before :  and  if 
ever  a  woman  was  at  her  wit's  end,  that  distracted  female  was 
Nurse  Periwinkle,  during  the  space  of  two  or  three  minutes,* 
as  she  vibrated  between  the  three  beds,  like  an  agitated  pen- 
dulum. Like  a  most  opportune  reinforcement,  Dan,  the  bandy, 
appeared,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  lively  party,  leaving  me 
free  to  return  to  my  post ;  for  the  Prussian,  with  a  nod  and  a 
smile,  took  the  lad  away  to  his  own  bed,  and  lulled  him  to 
sleep  with  a  soothing  murmur,  like  a  mammoth  humble  bee. 
I  liked  that  in  Fritz,  and  if  he  ever  wondered  afterward  at  the 
dainties  which  sometimes  found  their  way  into  his  rations,  or 
the  extra  comforts  of  his  bed,  he  might  have  found  a  solution 
of  the  mystery  in  sundry  persons'  knowledge  of  the  fatherly 
action  of  that  night. 

Hardly  was  I  settled  again,  when  the  inevitable  bowl 
appeared,  and  its  bearer  delivered  a  message  I  had  expected, 
yet  dreaded  to  receive  : 

"  John  is  going,  ma'am,  and  wants  to  see  you,  if  you  cau 
come." 

"  The  moment  this  boy  is  asleep;  tell  him  so,  and  let  me 
know  if  I  am  in  danger  of  being  too  late." 

My,  Ganymede  departed,  and  while  I  quieted  poor  Shaw,  I 
thought  of  John.  He  came  in  a  day  or  two  after  the  others  ; 
and,  one  evening,  when  I  entered  my  **  pathetic  room,"   I 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.  49 

found  a  lately  emptied  bed  occupied  hj  a  large,  fair  man, 
with  a  fine  face,  and  the  serenest  eyes  I  ever  met.  One  of 
the  earlier  comers  had  often  spoken  of  a  friend,  who  had 
remained  behind,  that  those  apparently  worse  wounded  than 
himself  might  reach  a  shelter  first.  It  seemed  a  David  and 
Jonathan  sort  of  friendship.  The  man  fretted  for  his  mate, 
and  was  never  tired  of  praising  John — his  courage,  sobriety, 
self-denial,  and  unfailing  kindliness  of  heart;  always  winding 
up  witk  :  "  He's  an  out  an'  out  fine  feller,  ma'am  ;  you  see 
if  he  aint." 

I  had  some  curiosity  to  behold  this  piece  of  excellence,  and 
when  he  came,  watched  him  for  a  night  or  two,  before  I  made 
friends  with  him  ;  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  was  a  little  afraid  of 
the  stately  looking  man,  whose  bed  had  to  be  lengthened  to 
accommodate  his  commanding  stature  ;  who  seldom  spoke, 
uttered  no  complaint,  asked  no  sympathy,  but  tranquilly 
observed  what  went  on  about  him  ;  and,  as  he  lay  high  upon 
his  pillows,  no  picture  of  dying  statesman  or  warrior  was  ever 
fuller  of  real  dignity  than  this  Virginia  blacksmith.  A  most 
attractive  face  he  had,  framed  in  brown  hair  and  beard,  comely 
featured  and  full  of  vigor,  as  yet  unsubdued  by  pain  ;  thought- 
ful and  often  beautifully  mild  while  watching  the  afflictions  of 
others,  as  if  entirely  forgetful  of  his  own.  His  mouth  was 
grave  and  firm,  with  plenty  of  will  and  courage  in  its  lines, 
but  a  smile  could  make  it  as  sweet  as  any  woman's  ;  and  his 
eyes  were  child's  eyes,  looking  one  fairly  in  the  face,  with  a 
clear,  straightforward  glance,  which  promised  well  for  such  as 
placed  their  faith  in  him.  He  seemed  to  cling  to  life,  as  if  ifc 
were  rich  in  duties  and  delights,  and  he  had  learned  the  secret 
of  content.  The  only  time  I  saw  his  composure  disturbed, 
was  when  my  surgeon  brought  another  to  examine  John,  who 
scrutinized  their  faces  with  an  anxious  look,  asking  of  the 


50  HOSPITAL    SKtTCUES. 

elder  :  "  Do  you  think  I  shall  pull  through,  nr?'*  "  I  hope 
so,  my  man."  And,  as  the  two  passed  on.  John's  eye  still 
followed  them,  with  an  intentness  which  would  have  won  a 
truer  answer  from  them,  had  they  seen  it.  A.  momentary 
shadow  flitted  over  his  face ;  then  came  the  usual  serenity,  as 
if,  in  that  brief  eclipse,  he  had  adcnowledged  the  existence  of 
some  hard  possibility,  and,  asking  nothing  yet  hoping  all 
things,  left  the  issue  in  God's  hands,  with  that  submission 
which  is  true  piety. 

The  next  night,  as  I  went  my  rounds  with  Dr.  P.,  I 
happened  to  ask  which  man  in  the  room  probably  suffered 
most ;  and,    to  my  great  surprise,  he  glanced  at  John  : 

"  Every  breath  he  draws  is  like  a  stab ;  for  the  ball  pierced 
the  left  lung,  broke  a  rib,  and  did  no  end  of  damage  here  and 
there  ;  so  the  poor  lad  can  find  neither  forgetfulness  nor  ease, 
because  he  must  lie  on  his  wounded  back  or  suffocate.  It 
will  be  a  hard  struggle,  and  a  long  one,  for  he  possesses  great 
vitality ;  but  even  his  temperate  life  can't  save  him  ;  I  wish  it 
could." 

"  You  don't  mean  he  must  die.  Doctor?" 
*'  Bless  you,  there's  not  the  slightest  hope  for  him  ;  and 
you'd  better  tell  him  so  before  long  ;  women  have  a  way  of 
doing  such  things  comfortably,  so  I  leave  it  to  you.     He 
won't  last  more  than  a  day  or  two,  at  furthest." 

I  could  have  sat  down  on  the  spot  and  cried  heartily,  if  I 
had  not  learned  the  wisdom  of  bottling  up  one's  tears  for 
leisure  moments.  Such  an  end  seemed  very  hard  for  such  a 
man,  when  half  a  dozen  worn  out,  worthless  bodies  round  him, 
were  gathering  up  the  remnants  of  wasted  lives,  to  linger  on 
for  years  perhaps,  burdens  to  others,  daily  reproaches  to 
themselves.  The  army  needed  men  like  John,  earnest,  brave, 
and  faithful;  fighting  for  liberty  and  justice  with  both  heart 


IIOSl»ITAL    SKilTCllES.  51 

and  hand,  true  soLliers  of  the  Lord.  I  could  not  give  him 
up  so  soon,  or  think  with  any  patience  of  so  excellent  a  nalure 
robbed  of  its  fulQnient,  and  blundered  into  eternity  by  the 
ra-thness  or  stupidity  of  those  at  whose  bands  so  many  lives 
may  be  required.  It  was  an  easy  thing  for  Dr.  P.  to  say : 
*•  Tell  him  he  must  die,"  but  a  cruelly  hard  thing  to  do,  and 
by  no  means  as  "  comfortuble  "  as  he  politely  suggested.  I 
had  not  the  heart  to  do  it  then,  and  privately  indulged  the 
hope  that  some  change  for  the  better  might  take  place,  in  spite 
of  gloomy  prophesies ;  so,  rendering  my  task  unnecessary. 

A  few  minutes  later,  as  I  came  in  again,  with  fresh  rollers, 
I  saw  John  sitting  erect,  with  no  one  to  support  him,  while 
the  surgeon  dressed  his  back.  I  had  never  hitherto  seen  it 
done ;  for,  having  simpler  wounds  to  attend  to,  and  knowing 
the  fidelity  of  the  attendant,  I  had  left  John  to  him,  thinking 
it  might  be  more  agreeable  and  safe  ;  for  both  strength  and 
experience  were  needed  in  his  case.  I  had  forgotten  that  the 
strong  man  might  long  for  the  gentle  tendance  of  a  woman's 
hands,  the  sympathetic  magnetism  of  a  woman's  presence,  as 
well  as  the  feebler  souls  about  him.  The  Doctor's  words 
caused  me  to  reproach  myself  with  neglect,  not  of  any  real 
duty  perhaps,  but  of  those  little  cares  and  kindnesses  that 
solace  homesick  spirits,  and  make  the  heavy  hours  pass  easier. 
John  looked  lonely  and  forsaken  just  then,  as  he  sat  with  bent 
head,  hands  folded  on  his  knee,  and  no  outward  sign  of  suffering, 
till,  looking  nearer,  I  saw  great  tears  roll  down  and  drop 
upon  the  floor.  It  was  a  new  sight  there  ;  for,  though  I  had 
seen  many  suffer,  some  swore,  some  groaned,  most  endured 
Bilently,  but  none  wept.  Yet  it  did  not  seora  weak,  only  very 
touching,  and  straightway  ray  fear  vanished,  ray  heart  opened 
wide  and  took  him  in,  as,  gathering  the  bent  head  in  my  arms, 


52  UOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 

as  freely  as  if  be  bad  been  a  little  cbild,  I  said,  "  Let  me 
help  you  bear  it,  Jobn," 

Never,  on  any  buman  countenance,  bave  I  seen  so  swift 
and  beautiful  a  look  of  gratitude,  surprise  and  comfort,  as  tbat 
wbicb  answered  mo  more  eloquently  tban  tbe  wbispered  — 

"  Tbank  you,  ma'am,  Ibis  is  rigbt  good!  tbis  is  wbat  I 
wanted  !" 

••  Tben  wby  not  ask  for  it  before?" 

*'  I  didn't  like  to  be  a  trouble ;  you  seemed  so  busy,  and  I 
could  manao;e  to  firet  on  alone." 

"  You  sball  not  want  it  any  more,  Jobn." 

Nor  did  be ;  for  now  I  understood  the  wistful  look  tbat 
sometimes  followed  me,  as  I  went  out,  after  a  brief  pause 
beside  bis  bed,  or  merely  a  passing  nod,  while  busied  with 
those  who  seemed  to  need  me  more  than  he,  because  more 
urgent  in  their  demands.  Now  I  knew  tbat  to  him,  as  to  so 
many,  I  was  the  poor  substitute  for  mother,  wife,  or  sister, 
and  in  his  eyes  no  stranger,  but  a  friend  who  hitherto  had 
seemed  neglectful ;  for,  in  his  modesty,  he  had  never  gnessed 
tbe  tnith.  This  was  changed  now  ;  and,  through  tbe  tedious 
operation  of  probing,  bathing,  and  dressing  his  wounds,  he 
leaned  against  me,  holding  my  band  fast,  and,  if  pain  wrung 
further  tears  from  him,  no  one  saw  them  fall  but  me.  When 
he  was  laid  down  again,  I  hovered  about  him,  in  a  remorseful 
state  of  mind  tbat  would  not  let  me  rest,  till  I  bad  bathed  bis 
face,  brushed  his  bonny  brown  hair,  set  all  things  smooth 
about  him,  and  laid  a  knot  of  heath  and  heliotrope  on  his 
clean  pillow.  While  doing  tbis,  be  watched  me  with  the  sat- 
isfied expression  I  so  liked  to  see ;  and  when  I  offered  the 
little  nosegay,  held  it  carefully  in  his  great  hand,  smoothed  a 
ruffled  leaf  or  two,  surveyed  and  smelt  it  with  an  air  of 
genuino  delight,  and  lay  contentedly  regarding  the  glimmer  of 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  53 

tbe  sunshine  on  the  green.  Although  the  manliest  man  among 
my  forty,  he  said,  "  Yes,  ma'am,"  like  a  little  boy ;  received 
suggestions  for  his  comfort  with  the  quick  smile  thatbriglitened 
his  whole  face ;  and  now  and  then,  as  I  stood  tidying  the 
table  by  his  bed,  I  felt  him  softly  touch  my  gown,  as  if  to 
assure  himself  that  I  was  there.  Anything  more  natural  and 
frank  I  never  saw,  and  found  this  brave  John  as  bashful  as 
brave,  yet  fuii  of  excellencies  and  fine  aspirations,  which, 
having  no  power  to  express  themselves  in  words,  seemed  to 
have  bloomed  into  his  character  and  made  him  what  he  was. 

After  that  night,  an  hour  of  each  evening  that  remained  to 
him  was  devoted  to  his  ease  or  pleasure.  He  could  not  talk 
much,  for  breath  was  precious,  and  he  spoke  in  whispers ;  but 
from  occasional  conversations,  I  gleaned  scraps  of  private 
history  which  only  added  to  the  affection  and  respect  I  felt  for 
him.  Once  he  asked  me  to  write  a  letter,  and  as  I  settled  pen 
and  paper,  I  said,  with  an  irrepressible  glimmer  of  feminine 
curiosity,  *'  Shall  it  be  addressed  to  wife,  or  mother,  John?" 

"  Neither,  ma'am  ;  I've  got  no  wife,  and  will  write  to 
mother  myself  when  I  get  better.  Did  you  think  I  was 
married  because  of  this  ?"  he  asked,  touching  a  plain  ring  he 
wore,  and  often  turned  thoughtfully  on  his  finger  when  he  lay 
alone. 

"  Partly  that,  but  more  from  a  settled  sort  of  look  you 
have ;  a  look  which  young  men  seldom  get  until  they  marry." 

"  Ididn't  know  that ;  but  I'm  not  so  very  young,  ma'am, 
thirty  in  May,  and  have  been  what  you  might  call  settled  this 
ten  years.  Mother's  a  widow,  I'm  the  oldest  child  she  has, 
and  it  wouldn't  do  for  me  to  marry  until  Lizzy  has  a  home  ol 
her  own,  and  Jack's  learned  his  trade ;  for  we're  not  rich, 
and  I  must  be  father  to  the  children  and  husband  to  the  dear 
old  woman,  if  I  can." 


O'i  HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 

"  No  doubt  but  you  are  both,  John  ;  yet  how  came  you  to 
go  to  war,  if  you  felt  so  ?  Wasn't  enlisting  as  bad  as  mar- 
rying V" 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  as  I  see  it,  for  one  is  helping  my  neighbor, 
the  other  pleasing  myself.  I  went  because  I  couldn't  help  it. 
I  didn't  want  the  glory  or  the  pay  ;  I  wanted  the  right  thing 
done,  and  people  kept  saying  the  men  who  were  in  earnest 
ought  to  fight.  I  was  in  earnest,  the  Lord  knows  I  but  I  held 
off  as  long  as  I  could,  not  knowing  which  was  my  duty. 
Mother  saw  the  case,  gave  me  her  ring  to  keep  me  steady,  and 
said  '  Go  :'  so  I  went." 

A  short  story  and  a  simple  one,  but  the  man  and  the  mother 
were  portrayed  better  than  pages  of  fine  writing  could  have 
done  it. 

"  Do  you  ever  regret  that  you  came,  when  you  lie  here 
suffering  so  much  ?" 

"  Never,  ma'am  ;  I  haven't  helped  a  great  deal,  but  I've 
shown  I  was  willing  to  give  my  life,  and  perhaps  I've  got  to ; 
but  I  don't  blame  anybody,  and  if  it  was  to  do  over  again,  I'd 
do  it,  I'm  a  little  sorry  I  wasn't  wounded  in  front ;  it  looks 
cowardly  to  be  hit  in  the  back,  but  I  obeyed  orders,  and  it 
don't  matter  in  the  end,  I  know." 

Poor  John  !  it  did  not  matter  now,  except  that  a  shot  in 
front  might  have  spared  the  long  agony  in  store  for  him.  lie 
seemed  to  read  the  thought  that  troubled  me,  as  he  spoke  so 
hopefully  when  there  was  no  hope,  for  he  suddenly  added  : 

"  This  is  my  first  battle;  do  they  think  it's  going  to  be  my 
last?" 

"  I'm  afraid  they  do,  John." 

It  was  the  hardest  question  I  had  ever  been  called  upon  to 
answer  ;  doubly  hard  with  those  clear  eyes  fixed  on  mine, 
forcing  a  truthful  answer  by  their  own  truth      He  seemed  a 


nOSl'lTAL    SKETCIILS.  55 

little  startled  at  first,  pondered  over  the  fateful  fact  a  raoment, 
then  sliook  bis  head,  with  a  glance  at  the  broad  cbest  and 
muscular  limbs  stretched  out  before  him  : 

•'  I'm  not  afraid,  but  it's  diflficult  to  believe  all  at  once.  I'm 
so  strong  it  don't  seem  possible  for  such  a  little  wound  to  kill 
me." 

Meriy  Mercutio's  dying  words  glanced  through  my  memory 
as  he  spoke  :  "  'Tis  not  so  deep  as  a  well,  nor  so  wide  as  a 
church  door,  but  'tis  enough."  And  John  would  have  said 
the  same  could  he  have  seen  the  ominous  black  holes  between 
his  shoulders  ;  he  never  had,  but,  seeing  the  ghastly  sights 
about  him,  could  not  believe  his  own  wound  more  fatal  than 
these,  for  all  the  suffering  it  caused  him. 

"Shall  I  write  to  your  mother,  now 'r"  I  asked,  thinking 
that  these  sudden  tidings  might  change  all  plans  and  puposes. 
But  they  did  not ;  for  the  man  received  the  order  of  the  Divine 
Commander  to  march  with  the  same  unquestioning  obedience 
with  which  the  soldier  had  received  that  of  the  human  one ; 
doubtless  remembering  that  the  first  led  him  to  life,  and  the 
last  to  death. 

"  Xo,  ma'am;  to  Jack  just  the  same;  he'll  break  it  to 
her  best,  and  I'll  add  a  line  to  her  myself  when  you  get 
done." 

So  I  wrote  the  letter  which  be  dictated,  finding  it  better 
than  any  I  had  sent ;  for,  though  here  and  there  a  little  ungram- 
matical  or  inelegant,  each  sentence  came  to  me  briefly  worded, 
but  most  expressive;  full  of  excellent  counsel  to  the  boy, 
tenderly  bequeathing  "  mother  and  Lizzie  "  to  his  care,  and 
bidding  him  good  bye  in  words  the  sadder  for  their  simplicity. 
He  added  a  few  lines,  with  steady  hand,  and,  as  I  sealed  it, 
said,  with  a  patient  sort  of  sigh,  "  I  hope  the  answer  will 
come  in  time  for  me  to  see  it ;"  then,  turning  away  his  face, 


56  HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 

laid  the  flowers  against  his  lips,  as  if  to  hide  some  quiver  of 
emotion  at  the  thought  of  such  a  sudden  sundering  of  all  the 
dear  home  tics. 

These  things  had  happened  two  days  before ;  now  John 
was  dying,  and  the  letter  had  not  come.  I  had  been  sum- 
moned to  many  death  beds  in  my  life,  but  to  none  that  made 
my  heart  ache  as  it  did  then,  since  my  mother  called  me  to 
watch  the  departure  of  a  spirit  akin  to  this  in  its  gentleness 
and  patient  strength.  As  I  went  in,  John  stretched  out  both 
hands : 

"  I  knew  you'd  come  !     I  guess  I'm  moving  on,  ma'am." 

He  was ;  and  so  rapidly  that,  even  while  he  spoke,  over  his 
face  I  saw  the  grey  veil  falling  that.no  human  hand  can  lift. 
I  sat  down  by  him,  wiped  the  drops  from  his  forehead,  stirred 
the  air  about  him  with  the  slow  wave  of  a  fan,  and  waited  to 
help  him  die.  He  stood  in  sore  need  of  help — and  I  could 
do  so  little ;  for,  as  the  doctor  had  foretold,  the  strong  body 
rebelled  against  death,  and  fought  every  inch  of  the  way, 
forcing  him  to  draw  each  breath  with  a  spasm,  and  clench  his 
hands  with  an  imploring  look,  as  if  he  a.sked,  "  How  long 
must  I  endure  this,  and  be  still !"  For  hours  he  suffered 
durably,  without  a  moment's  respite,  or  a  moment's  murmuring  ; 
his  limbs  grew  cold,  his  face  damp,  his  lips  white,  and,  again 
and  again,  he  tore  the  covering  off  his  breast,  as  if  the  lightest 
weight  added  to  his  agony ;  yet  through  it  all,  his  eyes  never 
lost  their  perfect  serenity,  and  the  man's  soul  seemed  to  sit 
therein,  undaunted  by  the  ills  that  vexed  his  flesh. 

One  by  one,  the  men  woke,  and  round  the  room  appeared 
a  circle  of  pale  faces  and  watchful  eyes,  full  of  awe  and  pity  ; 
for,  though  a  stranger,  John  was  beloved  by  all.  Each  man 
there  had  wondered  at  his  patience,  respected  his  piety,  admired 
his   fortitude,  and  now  lamented   his  hard    death ;    for  the 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.  57 

influence  of  an  upright  nature  had  made  itself  deeply  felt, 
even  in  one  little  week.  Presently,  the  Jonathan  who  so 
loved  this  comely  David,  came  creeping  from  his  bed  for  a 
last  look  and  word.  The  kind  soul  was  full  of  trouble,  as  the 
choke  in  his  voice,  the  grasp  of  his  hand,  betrayed  ;  but  there 
were  no  tears,  and  the  farewell  of  the  friends  was  the  more 
touching  for  its  brevity. 

*'  Old  boy,  how  are  you?"  faltered  the  one. 

•*  Most  through,  thank  heaven  !"  whispered  the  other. 

*'  Can  I  say  or  do  anything  for  you  anywheres?" 

*•  Take  my  things  home,  and  tell  them  that  I  did  my  best.'* 

"I  will!  I  will!" 

"Good  bye,  Ned." 
-     •'  Good  bye,  John,  good  bye  1" 

They  kissed  each  other,  tenderly  as  women,  and  so  parted, 
for  poor  Ned  could  not  stay  to  see  his  comrade  die.  For  a 
little  while,  there  was  no  sound  in  the  room  but  the  drip  of 
water,  from  a  stump  or  two,  and  John's  distressful  gasps,  as 
he  slowly  breathed  his  life  away.  I  thought  him  nearly  gone, 
and  had  just  laid  down  the  fan,  believing  its  help  to  be  no 
longer  needed,  when  suddenly  he  rose  up  in  his  bed,  and  cried 
out  with  a  bitter  cry  that  broke  the  silence,  sharply  startling 
every  one  with  its  agonized  appeal : 

"  For  God's  sake,  give  me  air  !" 

It  was  the  only  cry  pain  or  death  had  wrung  from  him,  the 
only  boon  he  had  asked ;  and  none  of  us  could  grant  it,  for 
all  the  airs  that  blew  were  useless  now.  Dan  flung  up  the 
window.  The  first  red  streak  of  dawn  was  warming  the  grey 
east,  a  herald  of  the  coming  sun  ;  John  saw  it,  and  with  the 
love  of  light  which  lingers  in  us  to  the  end,  seemed  to  read  in 
it  a  sign  of  hope  of  help,  for,  over  his  whole  face  there  broke 
that  mysterious  expression,  brighter  than   any  smile,  which 


58  HOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 

ofren  comes  to  eyes  that  look  their  last.  He  laid  himself 
gently  down  ;  and,  stretching  out  his  strong  right  arm,  as  if  to 
grasp  and  bring  the  blessed  air  to  his  lips  in  a  fuller  flow, 
lapsed  into  a  merciful  unconsciousness,  which  assured  us  that 
for  him  suffering  was  forever  past.  He  died  then  ;  for,  though 
the  heavy  breaths  still  tore  their  way  up  for  a  little  longer, 
they  were  but  the  waves  of  an  ebbing  tide  that  beat  unfelt 
against  the  wreck,  which  an  immortal  voyager  had  deserted 
with  a  smile.  He  never  spoke  again,  but  to  the  end  held  my 
hand  close,  so  close  that  when  he  was  asleep  at  last,  I  could 
not  draw  it  away.  Dan  helped  me,  warning  me  as  he  did  so 
that  it  was  unsafe  for  dead  and  living  flesh  to  lie  so  long 
together;  but  though  my  hand  was  strangely  cold  and  stiff, 
and  four  white  marks  remained  across  its  back,  even  when 
warmth  and  color  had  returned  elsewhere,  I  could  not  but  be 
glad  that,  through  its  touch,  the  presence  of  human  sympathy, 
perhaps,  had  lightened  that  hard  hour. 

When  they  had  made  him  ready  for  the  grave,  John  lay  in 
state  for  half  an  hour,  a  thing  which  seldom  happened  in  that 
busy  place  ;  but  a  universal  sentiment  of  reverence  and 
affection  seemed  to  fill  the  hearts  of  all  who  had  known  or 
heard  of  him  ;  and  when  the  rumor  of  his  death  went  through 
the  house,  always  astir,  many  came  to  see  him,  and  I  felt  a 
tender  sort  of  pride  in  my  lost  patient ;  for  he  looked  a  most 
heroic  figure,  lying  there  stately  and  still  as  the  statue  of  some 
young  knight  asleep  upon  his  tomb.  The  lovely  expression 
which  so  often  beautifies  dead  faces,  soon  replaced  the  marks 
of  pain,  and  I  longed  for  those  who  loved  him  best  to  see  him 
when  half  an  hour's  acquaintance  with  Death  had  made  them 
friends.  As  we  stood  looking  at  him,  the  ward  master  handed 
me  a  letter,  saying  it  had  been  forgotten  the  night  before.  It 
was  John's  letter,  come  just  an  hour  too  late  lo  gladden  the 


HOSPITAL    SKLTCIIES.  59 

eyes  that  bad  longed  and  looked  for  it  so  eagerly !  but  be  bad 
it  ;  for,  after  I  bad  cut  some  brown  locks  for  bis  mother,  and 
taken  oflf  the  ring  to  send  her,  telling  bow  well  the  talisman 
bad  done  its  work,  I  kissed  this  good  son  for  her  sake,  and 
laid  the  letter  in  his  hand,  still  folded  as  when  I  drew  my 
own  away,  feeling  that  its  place  was  there,  and  making  myself 
happy  with  the  thouglit,  that,  even  in  bis  solitary  grave  in  the 
"  Government  Lot,"  he  would  not  be  without  some  token  of 
the  love  which  makes  life  beautiful  and  outlives  death.  Then 
I  left  him,  glad  to  have  known  so  genuine  a  man,  and  carrying 
with  me  an  enduring  memory  of  the  brave  Virginia  blacksmith, 
as  he  lay  serenely  waiting  for  the  dawn  of  that  long  day 
which  knows  no  night. 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHZa. 


CHAPTER  V. 


OFF    DUTY. 


"  My  dear  girl,  we  shall  have  you  sick  in  your  bed,  unless 
you  keep  yourself  warm  and  quiet  for  a  few  days.  "Widow 
"Wadman  can  take  care  of  the  ward  alone,  now  the  men  arc  so 
comfortable,  and  have  her  vacation  when  you  are  about  again. 
Now  do  be  prudent  in  time,  and  don't  let  me  have  to  add  a 
Periwinkle  to  my  bouquet  of  patients." 

This  advice  was  delivered,  in  a  paternal  manner,  by  the 
youngest  surgeon  in  the  hospital,  a  kind-hearted  little  gentle- 
man, who  seemed  to  consider  me  a  frail  young  blossom,  that 
needed  much  cherishing,  instead  of  a  stout  spinster,  who 
had  been  knocking  about  the  world  for  thirty  years.  At  the 
time  I  write  of,  he  discovered  me  sitting  on  the  stairs,  with  a 
fine  cloud  of  unwholesome  steam  rising  from  the  washroom ; 
a  party  of  January  breezes  disporting  themselves  in  the  halls ; 
and  perfumes,  by  no  means  from  "  Araby  the  blest,*'  keeping 
them  company  ;  while  I  enjoyed  a  fit  of  couglnng,  which 
caused  my  head  to  spin  in  a  way  that  made  the  application  of 
a  cool  banister  both  necessaiy  and  agreeable,  as  I  waited  for 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.  61 

the  frolicsome  wind  to  restore  the  breath  I'd  lost ;  cheering 
myself,  meantime,  with  a  secret  conviction  that  pneumonia 
was  waiting  for  me  round  the  corner.  This  piece  of  advice 
had  been  offered  by  several  persons  for  a  week,  and  refused 
by  me  with  the  obstinacy  with  which  my  sex  is  so  richly  gifted. 
But  the  last  few  hours  had  developed  several  surprising  internal 
and  external  phenomena,  which  impressed  upon  me  the  fact 
that  if  I  didn't  make  a  masterly  retreat  very  soon,  I  should 
tumble  down  somewhere,  and  have  to  be  borne  ignominiously 
from  the  field.  My  head  felt  like  a  cannon  ball ;  my  feet  had 
a  tendency  to  cleave  to  the  floor ;  the  walls  at  times  undulated 
in  a  most  disagreeable  manner;  people  looked  unnaturally 
big  ;  and  the  very  bottles  on  the  mantle  piece  appeared  to 
dance  derisively  before  my  eyes.  Taking  these  things  into 
consideration,  while  blinking  stupidly  at  Dr.  Z.,  I  resolved  to 
retire  gracefully,  if  I  must ;  so,  with  a  valedictory  to  my  boys, 
a  private  lecture  to  Mrs.  Wadman,  and  a  fervent  wish  that  I 
could  take  off  my  body  and  work  in  my  soul,  I  mournfully 
ascended  to  my  apartment,  and  Nurse  P.  was  reported  off 
duty. 

For  the  benefit  of  any  ardent  damsel  whose  patriotic  fancy 
may  have  surrounded  hospital  life  with  a  halo  of  charms,  I 
will  briefly  describe  the  bower  to  which  I  retired, in  a  somewhat 
ruinous  condition.  It  was  well  ventilated,  for  five  panes  of 
glass  had  suffered  compound  fractures,  which  all  the  surgeons 
and  nurses  had  failed  to  heal ;  the  two  windows  were  draped 
with  sheets,  the  church  hospital  opposite  being  a  brick  and 
mortar  Argus,  and  the  female  mind  cherishing  a  prejudice  in 
favor  of  retiracy  during  the  night-capped  periods  of  existence. 
A  bare  floor  supported  two  narrow  iron  beds,  spread  with  thin 
mattrasses  like  plasters,  furnished  with  pillows  in  the  last 
stages  of  consumption.     In  a  fire  place,  guiltless  of  shovel, 


62 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 


tongs,  andirons,  or  grate,  burned  a  log.  inch  l)y  inch,  being  too 
long  to  go  on  all  at  once;  so,  while  the  fire  blazed  away  at  one 
end,  I  did  the  same  at  the  other,  as  I  tripped  over  it  a  dozen 
times  a  day,  and  flew  up  to  poke  it  a  dozen  times  at  night.  A 
mirror  (let  us  be  elegant  !  )  of  the  dimensions  of  a  muffin, 
and  about  as  reflective,  hung  over  a  tin  basin,  blue  pitcher, 
and  a  brace  of  yellow  mugs.  Two  invalid  tables,  ditto  chairs, 
wandered  here  and  there,  and  the  closet  contained  a  varied 
collection  of  bonnets,  bottles,  bags,  boots,  bread  and  butter, 
boxes  and  bugs.  The  closet  was  a  regular  Blue  Beard 
cupboard  to  me  ;  I  always  opened  it  with  fear  and  trembling, 
owing  to  rats,  and  shut  it  in  anguish  of  spirit ;  for  time  and 
space  were  not  to  be  had,  and  chaos  leigned  along  with  the 
rats.  Our  chimney-piece  was  decorated  with  a  flat-iron,  a 
Bible,  a  candle  minus  stick,  a  lavender  bottlq,  a  new  tin  pan, 
so  brilliant  that  it  served  nicely  for  a  pier-nla?s,  and  such  of 
the  portly  black  bugs  as  preferred  a  warmer  climate  than  the 
rubbish  hole  aflforded.  Two  arks,  commonly  called  trunks, 
lurked  behind  the  door,  containing  the  worldly  goods  of  the 
twain  who  laughed  and  cried,  slept  and  scrambled,  in  this 
refuge  ;  while  from  the  white-washed  walls  above  either  bed, 
looked  down  the  pictured  faces  of  those  whose  memory  could 
make  for  us  — 

"  One  little  room  an  everywnere." 

For  a  day  or  two  I  managed  to  appear  at  meals ;  for  the 
human  grub  must  eat  till  the  butterfly  is  ready  to  break  loose, 
and  no  one  had  time  to  come  up  two  flights  while  it  was 
possible  for  me  to  come  down.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  add 
another  affliction  or  reproach  to  that  enduring  man,  the  stew- 
ard ;  for,  compared  with  his  predecessor,  he  was  a  horn  of 
plenty ;   but  —  I  put  it  to   any   candid   mind  —  Is  not  the 


nOSPITAL    SKETCUES.  63 

following  bill  of  fare  susceptible  of  improvement,  without 
plunging  the  nation  madly  into  debt?  Tlie  three  meals  were 
*'  pretty  much  of  a  muchness,"  and  consisted  of  beef,  evidently 
put  down  for  ihe  men  of  '76  ;  pork,  just  in  from  the  street ; 
army  bread,  composed  of  saw-dust  and  saleratus  ;  butter,  salt 
as  if  churned  by  Lot's  wife ;  stewed  blackbeiTies,  so  much 
like  preserved  cockroaches,  that  only  those  devoid  of  imagina- 
tion could  partake  thereof  with  relish ;  coffee,  mild  and 
muddy;  tea,  three  dried  huckleberry  leaves  to  a  c[uart  of 
water  —  flavored  with  lime  —  also  animated  and  unconscious  of 
any  approach  to  clearness.  Variety  being  the  spice  of  life,  a 
small  pinch  of  the  article  would  have  been  appreciated  by  the 
hungry,  hard-working  sisterhood,  one  of  whom,  though  accus- 
tomed to  plain  fare,  soon  found  herself  reduced  to  bread  and 
water ;  having  an  inborn  repugnance  to  the  fat  of  the  land, 
and  the  salt  of  the  earth. 

Another  peculiarity  of  these  hospital  meals  was  the  rapidity 
with  which  the  edibles  vanished,  and  the  impossibility  of  getting 
a  drop  or  crumb  after  the  usual  time.  At  the  first  ring  of  the 
bell,  a  general  slc;mpede  took  place  ;  some  twenty  hungry 
souls  rushed  to  the  dining-room,  swept  over  the  table  like  a 
swarm  of  locusts,  and  left  no  fnigment  for  any  tardy  creature 
who  arrived  fifteen  minutes  late.  Thinking  it  of  more  import- 
ance that  the  patients  should  be  well  and  comfortably  fed,  I 
took  my  time  about  my  own  meals  for  the  first  day  or  two 
after  I  came,  but  was  speedily  enlightened  by  Isaac,  the  black 
waiter,  who  bore  with  me  a  few  times,  and  then  informed  me, 
looking  as  stern  as  fate  : 

"  I  say,  mam,  ef  you  comes  so  late  you  can't  have  no 
vittles,  —  'cause  I'm  'bleeged  fer  ter  git  things  ready  fer  de 
doctors  'mazin'  spry  arter  you  nusses  and  folks  is  done.  De 
gen'lemen  don't  kere  fer  ter  wait,  no   more   does  I;  so  you 


64  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

jes'  please  ter  come  at  de  time,  and  dere  won't  be  no  frcttln' 
nowheres." 

It  was  a  new  sensation  to  stand  looking  at  a  full  table, 
painfully  conscious  of  one  of  the  vacuums  which  Nature 
abhors,  and  receive  orders  to  right  about  face,  without 
partaking  of  the  nourishment  which  your  inner  woman  clam, 
orously  demanded.  The  doctors  always  fared  better  than  we ; 
and  for  a  moment  a  desperate  impulse  prompted  me  to  give 
them  a  hint,  by  walking  off  with  the  mutton,  or  confiscating 
the  pie.  But  Ike's  eye  was  on  me,  and,  to  my  shame  be  it 
spoken,  I  walked  meekly  away  ;  went  dinnerless  that  day, 
and  that  evening  went  to  market,  laying  in  a  small  stock  of 
crackers,  cheese  and  apples,  that  my  boys  might  not  be 
neglected,  nor  myself  obliged  to  bolt  solid  and  liquid  dyspep- 
sias, or  starve.  This  plan  would  have  succeeded  admirably 
had  not  the  evil  star  under  which  I  was  born,  been  in  the 
ascendant  during  that  month,  and  cast  its  malign  influences 
even  into  my  "  'umble  "  larder ;  for  the  rats  had  their  dessert 
off  my  cheese,  the  bugs  set  up  housekeeping  in  ray  cracker- 
bag,  and  the  apples  like  all  worldly  riches,  took  to  themselves 
wings  and  flew  away ;  whither  no  man  could  tell,  though 
certain  black  imps  might  have  thrown  light  upon  the  matter, 
had  not  the  plaintiff  in  the  case  been  loth  to  add  another  to 
the  many  trials  of  long-suffering  Africa.  After  this  failure  I 
resigned  myself  to  fate,  and,  remembering  that  bread  was  called 
the  staff  of  life,  leaned  pretty  exclusively  upon  it ;  but  it 
proved  a  broken  reed,  and  I  came  to  the  ground  after  a  few 
weeks  of  prison  fare,  varied  by  an  occasional  potato  or  surrep- 
titious sip  ©f  milk. 

Yery  soon  after  leaving  the  care  of  my  ward,  I  discovered 
that  I  had  no  appetite,  and  cut  the  bread  and  butter  interests 
almost   entirely,  trying  the  exercise  and  sun  cure  instead. 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  65 

Flattering  myself  that  I  had  plenty  of  time,  and  could  see  a  11 
that  was  to  be  seen,  so  far  as  a  lone  lorn  female  could  venture 
in  a  city,  one-half  of  whose  male  population  seemed  to  be 
taking  the  other  half  to  tte  guard-house,  —  every  morning  I 
took  a  brisk  run  in  one  direction  or  another ;  for  the  January 
days  were  as  mild  as  Spring.  A  rollicking  north  wind  and 
occasional  snow  stoim  would  have  been  more  to  my  taste,  for 
the  one  would  have  braced  and  refreshed  tired  body  and  soul, 
the  other  have  purified  the  air,  and  spread  a  clean  coverlid 
over  the  bed,  wherein  the  capital  of  these  United  States 
appeared  to  be  dozing  pretty  soundly  just  then. 

One  of  these  trij:s  was  to  the  Armory  Hospital,  the  neatness, 
comfort,  and  convenience  of  which  makes  it  an  honor  to  its 
presiding  genius,  and  arouses  all  the  covetous  propensities  of 
such  nurses  as  came  from  other  hospitals  to  visit  it. 

The  long,  clean,  warm,  and  airy  wards,  built  l)arrack-fashion, 
with  the  nurse's  room  at  the  end,  were  fully  appreciated  by 
Nurse  Periwinkle,  whose  ward  and  private  bower  were  cold, 
dirty,  inconvenient,  up  stairs  and  down  stairs,  and  in  every- 
body's chamber.  At  the  Armory,  in  ward  K,  I  found  a 
cheery,  bright-eyed,  white-aproned  little  lady,  reading  at  her 
post  near  the  stove  ;  matting  under  her  feet ;  a  draft  of  fresh 
air  flowing  in  above  her  head ;  a  table  full  of  trays,  glasses, 
and  such  matters,  on  one  side,  a  large,  well-stocked  medicine 
chest  on  the  other;  and  all  her  duty  seemed  to  be  going  about 
now  and  then  to  give  doses,  issue  orders,  which  well- trained 
attendants  executed,  and  pet,  advise,  or  comfort  Tom,  Lick, 
or  Harry,  as  she  found  best.  As  I  watched  the  proceedings, 
I  recalled  my  own  tribulations,  and  contrasted  the  two  hospitals 
in  a  way  that  would  have  caused  my  summary  dismissal,  could 
it  have  been  reported  at  headquarters.  Here,  order,  method, 
common    sense   and    liberality   seemed   to   rule   in    a    style 


66  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

that  did  one's  heart  good  to  see  ;  at  the  Hurly  burly  Hotel, 
disorder,  discomfort,  bad  nianagemeut,  and  no  visible  bead, 
reduced  things  to  a  condition  which  I  despair  of  dcicribing. 
The  circumlocution  fashion  prevailed,  forms  and  fusses  tor 
mented  our  souls,  and  unnecessary  strictness  in  one  place  was 
counterbalanced  by  unpardonable  laxity  in  another.  Here  is 
a  sample  :  I  am  dressing  Sam  Dammer's  shoulder ;  and,  having 
cleansed  the  wound,  look  about  for  some  strips  of  adhesive 
plaster  to  hold  on  the  little  square  of  wet  linen  which  is  to 
cover  the  gunshot  wound ;  the  case  is  not  in  the  tray;  Frank, 
the  sleepy,  half-sick  attendant,  knows  nothing  of  it;  we 
rummage  high  and  low;  Sam  is  tired,  and  fumes;  Frank 
dawdles  and  yawns  ;  the  men  advise  and  laugh  at  the  flurry; 
I  feel  like  a  boiling  tea-kettle,  with  the  lid  ready  to  fly  oflf  and 
damage  somebody. 

••  Go  and  borrow  sbme  from  the  next  ward,  and  spend  the 
rest  of  the  day  in  finding  ours,"  I  finally  command.  A  pause ; 
then  Frank  scuffles  back  with  the  message  :  "  Miss  Peppercorn 
ain't  got  none,  ar\d  says  you  ain't  no  business  to  lose  your  own 
duds  and  go  boirowin'  other  folkses."  I  say  nothing,  for  fear 
of  saying  too  much,  but  fly  to  the  surgery.  Mr.  Toddy  pestle 
informs  me  that  I  can't  have  anything  without  an  order  from 
the  surgeon  of  my  ward.  Great  heavens  !  where  is  he  ?  and 
away  I  rush,  up  and  down,  here  and  there,  till  at  last  I  find 
him,  in  a  state  of  bliss  over  a  complicated  amputation,  in  the 
fourth  story.  I  make  my  demand;  he  answers:  "In  five 
minutes,"  and  works  away,  with  his  head  upside  down,  as  he 
ties  an  artery,  saws  a  bone,  or  does  a  little  needle-work,  with 
a  visible  relish  and  very  sanguinai-y  pair  of  hands.  The  fivg 
minutes  grow  to  fifteen,  and  Frank  appears,  with  the  remark 
that,  "  Dammer  wants  to  know  what  in  thunder  you  are 
keeping  him  there  with  his  finger  on  a  wet  rag  for?"     Dr.  P. 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  67 

tenrs  himself  away  long  enough  to  scribble  the  order,  with 
which  I  j)lango  downward  to  the  surgery  again,  find  the  door 
locked,  and,  while  hammering  away  on  it,  am  told  that  two 
friends  arc  waiting  to  see  me  in  the  hall.  The  matron  being 
away,  her  parlor  is  locked,  and  there  is  no  where  to  see  my 
guests  but  in  my  own  room,  and  no  time  to  enjoy  them  till 
the  plaster  is  found.  I  .settle  this  matter,  and  circulate  through 
the  house  to  find  Toddypestle,  who  has  no  right  to  leave  the 
surgery  till  night.  He  is  discovered  in  the  dead  house,  smoking 
a  cigar,  and  very  much  the  worse  for  his  researches  among  the 
spirituous  preparations  that  fill  the  surgery  shelves.  He  is 
inclined  to  be  gallant,  and  puts  the  finishing  blow  to  the  fire 
of  my  wrath ;  for  the  tea-kettle  lid  flies  oflf,  and  driving  him 
before  me  to  his  post,  I  fling  down  the  order,  take  what  I 
choose  ;  and,  leaving  the  absurd  incapable  kissing  his  hand  to 
me,  depart,  feeling  as  Grandma  Riglesty  is  reported  to  have 
done,  when  she  vainly  sought  for  chips,  in  Bimleck  Jackwood's 
"  shiflcss  paster." 

I  find  Dammer  a  well  acted  charade  of  hks  own  name,  and,- 
just  as  I  get  him  done,  struggling  the  while  with  a  burning 
desire  to  clap  an  adhesive  strip  across  his  mouth,  full  of 
heaven-defying  oaths,  Fiank  takes  up  his  boot  to  put  it  on, 
and  exclaims  : 

*'  I'm  blest  ef  hero  ain't  that  case  now  !  I  recollect  seeing 
it  fall  in  this  mornin',  but  forgot  all  about  it,  till  my  heel 
went  smash  inter  it.  Here,  ma'am,  ketch  hold  on  it,  and  give 
the  boys  a  sheet  on't  all  round,  'gainst  it  tumbles  inter  t'other 
boot  next  time  yer  want  it." 

If  a  look  could  annihilate,  Francis  Saucebox  would  have 
ce'ased  to  exist ;  but  it  couldn't ;  therefore,  he  yet  lives,  to 
aggravate  some  unhappy  woman's  soul,  and  wax  fat  in  some 
equally  congenial  situation. 


68  UOSPITAL    SKETCULS. 

Now,  while  I'm  freeing  my  mind,  I  should  like  to  enter  my 
protest  against  emplo3'ing  convalescents  as  attendants,  instead 
of  strong,  properly  trained,  and  cheerful  men.  How  it  may 
be  in  other  places  I  cannot  say ;  but  here  it  was  a  source  of 
constant  trouble  and  confusion,  these  feeble,  ignorant  men 
trying  to  sweep,  scrub,  lift,  and  wait  upon  their  sicker  comrades. 
One,  with  a  diseased  heart,  was  expected  to  run  up  and  down 
stairs,  carry  heavy  trays,  and  move  helpless  men ;  he  tried  it, 
and  grew  rapidly  worse  than  when  he  first  came  :  and,  when 
he  was  ordered  out  to  march  away  to  the  convalescent  hospital, 
fell,  in  a  sort  of  fit,  before  he  turned  the  corner,  and  was 
brought  back  to  die.  Another,  hurt  by  a  fall  from  his  horse, 
endeavored  to  do  his  duty,  but  failed  entirely,  and  the  wrath 
of  the  ward  master  fell  upon  the  nurse,  who  must  either  scrub 
the  rooms  herself,  or  take  the  lecture  ;  for  the  boy  looked  stout 
and  well,  and  the  master  never  happened  to  see  him  turn 
white  with  pain,  or  hear  him  groan  in  his  sleep  when  an  in  vol 
untary  motion  strained  his  poor  back.  Constant  complaints 
were  being  made  of  incompetent  attendants,  and  some  dozen 
women  did  double  duty,  and  then  were  blamed  for  breakinfT 
down.  If  any  hospital  director  fancies  this  a  good  and 
economical  arrangement,  allow  one  used  up  nurse  to  tell  him 
it  isn't,  and  beg  him  to  spare  the  sisterhood,  who  sometimes, 
in  their  sympathy,  forget  that  they  are  mortal,  and  run  the 
risk  of  being  made  immortal,  sooner  than  is  agreeable  to  their 
partial  friends. 

Another  of  my  few  rambles  took  me  to  the  Senate  Chamber, 
hoping  to  hear  and  see  if  this  large  machine  was  run  any 
better  than  some  small  ones  I  knew  of.  I  was  too  late,  and 
found  the  Speaker's  chair  occupied  by  a  colored  gentleman  of 
ten ;  while  two  others  were  on  their  legs,  having  a  hot 
debate  on  the  cornball  question,  as  they  gathered  the  waste 


HOSPITAL   SILETCHES.  C9 

paper  strewn  about  the  floor  into  bags ;  and  several  white 
members  played  leap-frog  over  the  desks,  a  much  wholcsomer 
relaxation  than  some  of  the  older  Senators  indulge  in,  I  fancy. 
Finding  the  coast  clear,  I  likewis*  gambolled  up  and  down, 
from  gallery  to  gallery ;  sat  in  Sumner's  chair,  and  cudgelled 
an  imaginary  Brooks  within  an  inch  of  his  life ;  examined 
Wilson's  books  in  the  coolest  possible  manner ;  warmed  my 
feet  at  one  of  the  national  registers ;  read  people's  names  on 
scattered  envelopes,  and  pocketed  a  castaway  autograph  or 
two ;  watched  the  somewhat  unparliamentary  proceedings 
going  on  about  me,  and  wondered  who  in  the  world  all  the 
sedate  gentlemen  were,  who  kept  popping  out  of  odd  doors 
here  and  there,  like  respectable  Jacks-in-the-box.  Then  I 
wandered  over  the  palatial  residence  of  Mrs.  Columbia, 
and  examined  its  many  beauties,  though  I  can't  say  I  thought 
her  a  tidy  housekeeper,  and  didn't  admire  her  taste  in  pictures , 
for  the  eye  of  this  humble  individual  soon  wearied  of  expiring 
patriots,  who  all  appeared  to  be  quitting  their  earthly  taberna- 
cles in  convulsions,  ruffled  shirts,  and  a  whirl  of  torn  banners, 
bomb  shells,  and  buff  and  blue  arms  and  legs. 

The  statuary  also  was  massive  and  concrete,  but  rather 
wearying  to  examine;  for  the  colossal  ladies  and  gentle- 
men carried  no  cai-ds  of  introduction  in  face  or  figure; 
so  whether  the  ipeditative  party  in  a  kilt,  with  well-de- 
veloped legs,  shoes  like  army  slippers,  and  a  ponderous 
nose,  was  Columbus,  Cato,  or  Cockelorum  Tibby  the  tra- 
gedian, was  more  than  I  could  tell.  Several  robust  ladies 
attracted  me;  but  which  was  America  and  which  Poca- 
hontas was  a  mystery;  for  all  affected  much  looseness 
of  costume,  dishevelment  of  hair,  swords,  arrows,  lances, 
scales,  and  other  ornaments  quite  passe  with  damsels  of 
our  day,  whose  effigies  should  go  down  to  posterity  ai-med 


70  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

with  fans,  crochet  neecllcs,  rifling  whips,  and  parasols,  with 
here  and  there  one  holding  pen  or  pencil,  rolling-pio  or  broom. 
The  statue  of  Liberty  I  recognized  at  once,  for  it  had  no 
pedestal  as  yet,  but  stood  flat  in  the  mud,  with  Young  America 
most  symbcUically  making  dirt  pies,  and  chip  forts,  in  its 
shadow.  But  high  above  the  squabbling  little  throng  and 
their  petty  plans,  the  sun  shone  full  on  Liberty's  broad 
forehead,  and,  in  her  hand,  some  summer  bird  had  built  its 
nest.'  I  accepted  the  good  omen  then,  and,  on  the  first  of 
January,  the  EmancipatioQ  Act  gave  the  statue  a  nobler  and 
more  enduring  pedestal  than  any  marble  or  granite  ever  carved 
and  quarried  by  human  hands. 

One  trip  to  Georgetown  Heights,  where  cedars  sighed  over- 
head, dead  leaves  rustled  underfoot,  pleasant  paths  k-d  up  and 
down,  and  a  brook  wound  like  a  silver  snake  by  the  blackened 
ruins  of  some  French  3Iinister's  house,  through  the  poor 
gardens  of  the  black  washerwomen  who  congregated  there, 
and,  passing  the  cemetery  with  a  murmurous  lullaby,  rolled 
away  to  pay  its  little  tribute  to  the  river.  This  breezy  run 
was  the  last  I  took  ;  for,  on  the  morrow,  came  rain  and  wind : 
and  confinement  soon  proved  a  powertul  reinforcement  to  the 
enemy,  who  was  quietly  preparing  to  spring  a  mine,  and  blow 
me  five  hundred  miles  from  the  position  I  had  taken  in  what  I 
called  my  Chickahominy  Swamp. 

Shut  up  in  my  room,  with  no  voice,  spirits,  or  books,  that 
week  was  not  a  holiday,  by  any  means.  Finding  meals  a 
humbug,!  stopped  away  altogether,  trusting  that  if  this  sparrow 
was  of  any  worth,  the  Lord  would  not  let  it  fall  to  the  ground. 
Like  a  flock  of  friendly  ravens,  my  sister  nurses  fed  me,  not 
only  with  food  for  the  body,  but  kind  words  for  the  mind ; 
and  soon,  from  being  half  starved,  I  found  myself  so  beteaed 
and  betoasted,  petted  and  served,  that  I  was  nearly  killed 


HOSPITAL    SKETCILES.  /  1 

\vith  kindness,  in  spite  of  cough,  headache,  a  painful  conscious- 
ness of  my  pleura,  and  a  realizing  sense  of  bones  in  the  human 
frame.  From  the  pleasant  bouse  on  the  hill,  the  home  in  the 
heart  of  Washington,  and  the  Willard  caravansary,  came 
friends  new  and  old,  with  bottles,  baskets,  carriages  and  invita- 
tions for  the  invalid  ;  and  daily  our  Florence  Nightingale 
climbed  the  steep  stairs,  stealing  a  moment  from  her  busy  life, 
to  watch  over  the  stranger,  of  whom  she  was  as  thoughtfully 
tender  as  any  mother.  Long  may  she  wave  I  Whatever  others 
may  think  or  say,  Nurse  Periwinkle-  is  forever  grateful ;  and 
among  her  relics  of  that  Washington  defeat,  none  is  more 
valued  than  the  little  book  which  appeared  on  her  pillow,  one 
dreary  day;  for  the  D  D.  written  in  it  means  to  her  far  more 
than  Doctor  of  Divinity. 

Being  forbidden  to  meddle  with  fleshly  arms  and  legs,  I 
solaced  myself  by  mending  cotton  ones,  and,  as  I  sat  sewing 
at  my  window,  watched  the  moving  panorama  that  passed 
below  ;  amusing  myself  with  taking  notes  of  the  most  striking 
figures  in  it.  Long  trains  of  army  wagons  kept  up  a  perpetual 
rumble  from  morning  till  night ;  ambulances  rattled  to  and  fio 
with  busy  surgeons,  nurses  taking  an  airing,  or  convalescents 
going  in  parties  to  be  fitted  to  artificial  limbs.  Strings  of  sorry 
looking  horses  passed,  saying  as  plainly  as  dumb  creatures 
could,  "Why,  in  a  city  full  of  them,  is  there  no  ^ors^pital 
for  us ":"  Often  a  cart  came  by,  with  several  rough  coffins  in 
it,  and  no  mourners  following ;  barouches,  with  invalid  officers, 
rolled  round  the  corner,  and  carriage  loads  of  pretty  children, 
with  black  coachmen,  footmen,  arid  maids.  The  women  who 
took  their  walks  abroad,  were  so  extinguished  in  three  story 
bonnets,  with  overhanging  balconies  of  flowers,  that  their 
charms  were  obscured ;  and  all  I  can  say  of  them  is,  that  thoy 
dressed  in  the  worst  possible  taste,  and  walked  like  ducks. 


72  HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 

The  men  did  the  picturesque,  and  did  it  so  wtll  that  Wash- 
ino-ton  looked  like  a  mammoth  masquerade.  Spanish  hats, 
Bcarlet  lined  rid!ng  cloaks,  swords  and  sashes,  high  boots  and 
bright  spurs,  beards  and  mustaches,  which  made  plain  faces 
comely,  and  comely  faces  heroic ;  these  vanities  of  the  flesh 
transformed  our  butchers,  bakers,  and  candlestick  makers  into 
g;illant  riders  of  gaily  caparisoned  horses,  much  handsomer 
than  themselves ;  and  dozens  of  such  figures  were  constantly 
prancing  by,  with  private  prickings  of  spurs,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  jierambulating  flower-bed.  Some  of  these  gentlemen 
affected  painfully  tight  uniforms,  ard  little  caps,  kept  on  by 
some  new  law  of  gravitation,  as  they  covered  only  the  bridge 
of  the  nose,  yet  never  fell  off;  the  men  looked  like  stuffed 
fowls,  and  rode  as  if  the  safety  of  the  nation  depended  on 
their  speed  alone.  The  fattest,  greyest  officers  dressed  most, 
and  ambled  statelily  along,  with  orderlies  behind,  trying  to 
look  as  if  they  didn't  know  the  stout  party  in  front,  and  doing 
much  caracoling  on  their  own  account. 

The  mules  were  my  especial  delight ;  and  an  hour's  study 
of  a  constant  succession  of  them  introduced  me  to  many  of 
their  characteristics ;  for  six  of  these  odd  little  beasts  drew 
each  army  wagon,  and  went  hopping  like  frogs  through  the 
stream  of  mud  that  gently  rolled  along  the  street.  The 
coquettish  mule  had  small  feet,  a  nicely  trimmed  tassel  of  a 
tail,  perked  up  ears,  and  seemed  much  given  to  little  tosses  of 
the  head,  affected  skips  and  prances  ;  and,  if  he  wore  the 
bells,  or  were  bedizzened  with  a  bit  of  finery,  put  on  as  many 
airs  as  any  belle.  The  moral  mule  was  a  stout,  hard-working 
creature,  always  tugging  with  all  his  might;  often  pulling 
away  after  the  rest  had  stopped,  laboring  under  the  conscien- 
tious delusion  that  food  for  the  entire  army  depended  upon  his 
private  exertions.     I  respected  this  style  of  mule  ;  and,  had 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  i3 

I  possessed  a  juicy  eatbage,  would  have  pressed  it  upon  him, 
with  thanks  for  his  excellent  example.  The  historical  mule 
was  a  melo-dramatic  quadruped,  prone  to  startling  humanity 
by  erratic  leaps,  and  wild  plunges,  much  shaking  of  his 
stubborn  head,  and  lashing  out  of  his  vicious  heels  ;  now  and 
then  falling  Hat,  and  apparently  dying  a  la  Forrest :  a  gasp  — 
a  squirm  —  a  flop,  and  so  on,  till  the  street  was  well  blocked 
up,  the  drivers  all  swearing  like  demons  in  bad  hats,  and  the 
chief  actor's  circulation  decidedly  quickened  by  every  variety 
of  kick,  cuff,  jerk  and  haul.  When  the  last  breath  seemed  to 
have  left  his  body,  and  "Doctors  were  in  vain,"  a  sudden 
resurrection  took  place  ;  and  if  ever  a  mule  laughed  with 
scornful  triumph,  that  was  the  beast,  as  he  leisurely  rose,  gave 
a  comfortable  shake  ;  and,  calmly  regarding  the  excited  crowd 
seeemed  to  say  —  "  A  hit !  a  decided  hit!  for  the  stupidest 
of  aninids  has  bamboozled  a  dozen  men.  Now,  then  !  what 
are  you  stopping  the  way  for?"  The  pathetic  mule  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  interesting  of  all ;  for,  though  he  always 
seemed  to  be  the  smallest,  thinnest,  weakest  of  the  six,  the 
postillion,  with  big  boots,  long-tailed  coat,  and  heavy  whip, 
was  sure  to  bestride  this  one,  who  struggled  feebly  along,  head 
down,  coat  muddy  and  rough,  eye  spiritless  and  sid,  his  very 
tail  a  mortified  stump,  and  the  whole  beast  a  picture  of  meek 
misery,  fit  to  touch  a  heart  of  stone.  The  jovial  mule  was  a 
roly  poly,  happy-go-lucky  little  piece  of  horse-flesh,  taking 
everything  easily,  from  cudgeling  to  caressing  ;  strolling  along 
with  a  roguish  twinkle  of  the  eye,  and,  if  the  thing  were 
possible,  would  have  had  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  whistled 
as  he  went.  If  there  ever  chanced  to  be  an  apple  core,  a 
stray  turnip,  or  wisp  of  hay,  in  the  gutter,  this  Mark  Tapley 
was  sure  to  find  it,  and  none  of  his  mates  seemed  to  begrudge 
him  his  bite.     I  suspected  this  fellow  was  the  peacemaker, 


<+  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

confiflant  and  friend  of  all  the  others,  for  he  had  a  sort  of 
"  Cheer-up, -old-boy,-ril-pull-you-through  "  look,  which  was 
exceedingly  engaging. 

Pigs  also  possessed  attractions  for  me,  never  having  had 
an  opportunity  of  observing  their  graces  of  mind  and  manner, 
till  I  came  to  Washington,  whose  porcine  citizens  appeared  to 
enjoy  a  larger  liberty  than  many  of  its  human  ones.  Stout, 
sedate  looking  pigs,  hurried  by  each  morning  to  their  places 
of  business,  with  a  preoccupied  air,  and  sonorous  greeting  to 
their  friends.  Genteel  pigs,  with  an  extra  curl  to  their  tails, 
promenaded  in  pairs,  lunching  here  and  there,  like  gentlemen 
of  leisure.  Rowdy  pigs  pushed  the  passers  by  off  the  side 
walk;  tipsy  pigs  hiccoughed  their  version  of  "We  wont  go 
home  till  morning,"  from  the  gutter  ;  and  delicate  young  pigs 
tripped  daintily  through  the  mud,  as  if  they  plumed  them- 
selves upon  their  ankles,  and  kept  themselves  particularly 
neat  in  point  of  stockings.  3Iaternal  pigs,  with  their  inter- 
esting families,  strolled  by  in  the  sun ;.  and  often  the  pink, 
baby-like  sr^  aealers  lay  down  for  a  nap,  with  a  trust  in  Provi- 
dence worthy  of  human  imitation. 

But  more  interesting  than  officers,  ladies,  mules,  or  pigs, 
were  my  colored  brothers  and  sisters,  because  so  unlike  the 
respectable  members  of  society  I'd  known  in  moral  Boston. 

Here  was  the  genuine  article — no,  not  the  genuine  article 
at  all,  we  must  go  to  Africa  for  that  —  but  the  sort  of  creatures 
generations  of  slavery  have  made  them  :  obsequious,  trickish, 
lazy  and  ignorant,  yet  kind-hearted,  merry-tempered,  quick  to 
feel  and  accept  the  least  token  of  the  brotherly  love  which  is 
slowly  teaching  the  white  hand  to  grasp  the  black,  in  this 
great  struggle  for  the  liberty  of  both  the  races. 

Having  been  warned  not  to  be  too  rampant  on  the  subject 
of  slavery,   as   secei^h    principles  flourished  even    under  the 


HOSPITAL     SKETCUES.  iO 

shadow  of  Father  Abraham,  I  had  endeavored  to  walk  dis- 
creetly, and  curb  my  unruly  member;  looking  about  rae 
with  all  my  eyes  the, while,  and  saving  up  the  result  of  my 
observations  for  future  use.  I  had  not  been  there  a  week 
before  the  neglected,  devil-may  care  expression  in  many  of 
the  faces  about  me,  seemed  an  urgent  appeal  to  leave  nursing 
white  bodies,  and  take  some  care  for  these  black  souls.  Much 
as  the  lazy  boys  and  saucy  girts  tormented  me,  I  liked  them, 
and  found  that  any  show  of  interest  or  friendliness  brought 
out  the  better  traits  which  live  in  the  most  degraded  and 
forsaken  of  us  all.  I  liked  their  cheerfulness,  for  the  dreariest 
old  hag,  who  scrubbed  all  day  in  that  pestilential  steam, 
gossipped  and  grinned  all  the  way  out,  when  night  set  her  free 
from  drudgery.  The  girls  romped  with  their  dusky  sweet- 
hearts, or  tossed  their  babies,  with  the  tender  pride  that  makes 
mother-love  a  beautifier  to  the  homeliest  face.  The  men  and 
boys  sang  and  whistled  all  day  long ;  and  often,  as  I  held  my 
watch,  the  silence  of  the  night  was  sweetly  broken  by  some 
chorus  from  the  street,  full  of  real  melody,  whether  the  song 
was  of  heaven,  or  of  hoe-cakes  ;  and,  as  I  listened,  I  felt  that 
we  never  should  doubt  nor  despair  concerning  a  race  which, 
through  such  griefs  and  wrongs,  still  clings  to  this  good  gift, 
and  seems  to  solace  with  it  the  patient  hearts  that  wait  and 
watch  and  hope  until  the  end. 

I  expected  to  have  to  defend  myself  from  accusations  of  a 
prejudice  against  color ;  but  was  surprised  to  find  things  just 
the  other  way,  and  daily  shocked  some  neighbor  by  treating 
the  blacks  as  I  did  the  whites.  The  men  would  swear  at  tho 
**  darkies,"  would  put  two  gs  into  negro,  and  scoff  at  the  idea 
of  any  good  coming  from  such  trash.  The  nurses  were  willing 
to  be  served  by  the  colored  people,  but  seldom  thanked  them, 
never  praised,  and  scarcely  recognized  them  in   the  street ; 


ib  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

whereat  the  blood  of  two  generations  of  abolitionists  waxed 
hot  in  my  veins,  and,  at  the  first  opportunity,  proclaimed  itself, 
and  asserted  the  right  of  free  speech  as  doggedly  as  the  irre- 
pressible Folsom  herself. 

Happening  to  catch  up  a  funny  little  black  baby,  who  was 
toddling  about  the  nurses'  kitchen,  one  day,  when  I  went 
down  to  make  a  mess  for  some  of  my  men,  a  Virginia  woman 
standing  by  elevated  her  most  prominent  feature,  with  a  sniff 
of  disapprobation,  exclaiming : 

•'  Gracious,  Miss  P.  !  how  can  you?  I've  been  here  six 
months,  and  never  so  much  as  touched  the  little  toad  with  a 
poker." 

*'  More  shame  for  you,  ma'am,"  responded  Miss  P.  ;  and, 
with  the  natural  perversity  of  a  Yankee,  followed  up  the  blow 
by  kissing  "  the  toad,"  with  ardor.  His  face  was  providen, 
tially  as  clean  and  shiny  as  if  his  mamma  had  just  polished  it 
up  with  a  corner  of  her  apron  and  a  drop  from  the  tea-kettle 
spout,  like  old  Aunt  Chloe.  Tliis  rash  act,  and  the  anti- 
slavery  lecture  that  followed,  while  one  hand  stirred  gruel  for 
sick  America,  and  the  other  hugged  baby  Africa,  did  not 
produce  the  cheering  result  which  I  fondly  expected ;  for  my 
comrade  henceforth  regarded  me  as  a  dangerous  fanatic,  and 
my  protege  nearly  came  to  his  death  by  insisting  on  swarming 
up  stairs  to  my  room,  on  all  occasions,  and  being  walked  on 
like  a  little  black  spider. 

I  waited  for  New  Year's  day  with  more  eagerness  than  I 
had  ever  known  before  ;  and,  though  it  brought  me  no  gift,  I 
felt  rich  in  the  act  of  justice  so  tardily  performed  toward  some 
of  those  about  me.  As  the  bells  rung  midnight,  I  electrified 
my  room-mate  by  dancing  out  of  bed,  throwing  up  the 
window,  and  flapping  my  handkerchief,  with  a  feeble  cheer, 
in  answer  to  the  shout  of  a  group  of  colored  man  in  the  street 


inkl  3tirro(l 


"  Ono   hrinU  fltirrod  gruel  for  sick  America,  and   the   other   hufrged  baby 
Africa."  — Pack  70. 


HOSPITAL    gKETCilES.  77 

below.  All  night  they  tooted  and  tramped,  fired  crackers, 
sung  "  Glory,  Hallelujah,"  and  took  comfort,  poor  souls  !  in 
their  own  way.  The  sky  was  clear,  the  n;ioon  shone  benignly, 
a  mild  wind  blew  across  the  river,  and  all  good  omens  seemed 
to  usher  in  the  dawn  of  the  day  whose  noontide  cannot  now 
bo  long  in  coming.  If  the  colored  people  had  taken  hands 
and  danced  around  the  White  House,  with  a  few  cheers  for 
the  much  abused  gentleman  who  has  immortalized  himself  by 
one  just  act,  no  President  could  have  had  a  finer  levee,  or  one 
to  be  prouder  of. 

While  these  sights  and  sounds  were  going  on  without, 
curious  scenes  were  passing  within,  and  I  was  learning  that 
one  of  the  best  methods  of  fitting  oneself  to  be  a  nurse  in  a 
hospital,  is  to  be  a  patient  there.  Forthen  only  can  one  wholly 
realize  what  the  men  suflfer  and  sigh  for  ;  how  acts  of  kindness 
touch  and  win;  how  much  or  little  we  are  to  those  about  us; 
and  for  the  first  time  really  see  that  in  coaiing  there  we  have 
taken  our  lives  in  our  hands,  and  may  have  to  pay  dearly  for 
a  brief  experience.  Every  one  was  very  kind ;  the  attendants 
of  my  ward  often  came  up  to  report  progress,  to  fill  niy  wood- 
box,  or  bring  messages  and  presents  from  my  boys.  The 
nurses  took  many  steps  with  those  tired  feet  of  theiis,  and 
several  came  each  evening,  to  chat  over  my  fire  ana  make 
things  cosy  for  the  night.  The  doctors  paid  daily  visits, 
tapped  at  my  lungs  to  see  if  pneumonia  was  within,  left  doses 
without  names,  and  went  away,  leaving  me  as  io-norant.  and 
much  more  uncomfortable  than  when  they  came.  Hours 
began  to  get  confused ;  people  looked  odd  ;  queer  faces  haunted 
the  room,  and  the  nights  were  one  long  fight  with  weariness 
and  pain.  Letters  from  home  grew  anxious ;  the  doctors 
lifted  their  eyebrows,  and  nodded  ominously ;  friends  said 
"  Don't  stay,''  and  an  internal  rebellion  seconded  the  advice  : 


78  HOSPITAL   SKETCHES. 

but  the  three  months  were  not  out,  and  the  idea  of  giving 
up  so  soon  was  proclaiming  a  defeat  before  I  was  fairly  routed  ; 
60  to  all  "■  Don't  sta3's"  I  opposed  "  I  wills,"  till,  one  fine 
morning,  a  grny-headcd  gentleman  rose  like  a  welcome  ghost 
on  my  hearth  ;  and,  at  the  sight  of  him,  my  resolution  melted 
away,  my  heart  turned  traitor  to  my  boys,  and,  when  he  said, 
•*  Come  home,"  I  answered,  "Yes,  father;"  and  so  ended 
my  career  as  an  army  nurse. 

I  never  shall  regret  the  going,  though  a  sharp  tussle  with 
typhoid,  ten  dollars,  and  a  wig,  are  all  the  visible  results  of 
the  experiment ;  for  one  may  live  and  learn  much  in  a  month. 
A  good  fit  of  illness  proves  the  value  of  health  ;  real  danger 
tries  one's  mettle  ;  and  self-sacrifice  sweetens  character.  Let 
no  one  who  sincerely  desires  to  help  the  work  on  in  this  way, 
delay  going  through  any  fear ;  for  the  worth  of  life  lies  in  the 
experiences  that  fill  it,  and  this  is  one  which  cannot  be  forgotten. 
All  that  is  best  and  bravest  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  women, 
comes  out  in  scenes  like  these  ;  and,  though  a  hoi^pital  is  a 
rough  school,  its  lessons  are  both  stern  and  salutary ;  and  the 
humblest  of  pup'.ls  there,  in  proportion  to  his  faithfulness, 
learns  a  deeper  faith  in  God  and  in  himself.  I,  for  one, 
would  return  tomorrow,  on  the  "up-again,-and-take-another  " 
principle,  if  I  could ;  for  the  amount  of  pleasure  and  profit  I 
got  out  of  that  month  compensates  for  all  after  pangs ;  and, 
though  a  sadly  womanish  feeling,  I  take  some  satisfaction  in 
the  thought  that,  if  I  could  not  lay  my  head  on  the  altar  of 
my  country,  I  have  my  hair ;  and  that  is  more  than  handsome 
Helen  did  for  her  dead  husband,  when  she  sacrificed  only  the 
ends  of  her  ringlets  on  his  urn.  Therefore,  I  close  this  little 
chapter  of  hospital  experiences,  with  the  regret  that  they  were 
no  better  worth  recording;  and  add  the  poetical  gem  with 


HOSPITAL    SKETCQES.  79 

which  I  console  myself  for  the  untimely  demise  of  "  Nurse 
Periwinkle :" 

Oh,  lay  her  in  a  little  pit. 
With  a  marble  stone  to  cover  it; 
And  carve  thereon  a  gruel  spoon, 
To  show  a  "  nuss  "  has  died  too  soon. 


80  HOSPITAL   SKETCHFJI. 


CHAPTER   YI. 

A   POSTSCKIPT. 

My  Dear  S. : —  As  inquiries  like  your  own  bave  come  to 
me  from  various  friendly  readers  of  the  Sketches,  I  will 
answer  them  en  masse,  and  in  printed  form,  as  a  sort  of 
postscript  to  what  has  gone  before.  One  of  these  questions 
was,  "  Are  there  no  services  by  hospital  death-beds,  or  on 
Sundays  ?" 

In  most  Hospitals  I  hope  there  are  ;  in  ours,  the  men  died, 
and  were  carried  away,  with  as  little  ceremony  as  on  a  battle- 
field. The  first  event  of  this  kind  which  I  witnessed  was  so 
very  brief,  and  bare  of  anything  like  reverence,  sorrow,  or 
pious  consolation,  that  I  heartily  agreed  with  the  blunily 
expressed  opinion  of  a  Maine  man  lying  next  his  comrade, 
who  died  with  no  visible  help  near  him,  but  a  compassionate 
woman  and  a  tender-hearted  Irishman,  who  dropped  upon  his 
knees,  and  told  his  beads,  with  Catholic  feivor,  for  the  good 
of  his  Protestant  brother's  parting  soul  : 

"If,  after  gettin'  all  the  hard  knocks,  we  are  left  to  die 


UOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 


81 


this  way,  with  nothing  but  a  Paddy's  prayers  to  help  us,  I 
guess  Christians  are  rather  scarce  round  Washington." 

I  thought  so  too  ;  but  though  Miss  Blank,  one  of  my 
mates,  anxious  that  souls  should  be  ministered  to,  as  well  as 
bodies,  spoke  more  than  once  to  the  Chaplain,  nothing  ever 
came  of  it.  Unlike  another  Shepherd,  whose  earnest  piety 
weekly  purified  the  Senate  Chamber,  this  man  did  not  feed  as 
well  as  fuld  his  flock,  nor  make  himself  a  human  symbol  of  the 
Divine  Samaritan,  who  never  passes  by  on  the  other  side. 

I  have  since  learned  that  our  non-coraraital  Chaplain  had 
been  a  Professor  in  some  Southern  College  ;  and,  though  he 
maintained  that  he  had  no  secesh  proclivities,  I  can  testify 
that  he  seceded  from  his  ministerial  duties,  I  may  say,  ske- 
daddled ;  for,  being  one  of  his  own  words,  it  is  as  appropriate 
as  inelegant.  He  read  Emerson,  quoted  Carlyle,  and  tried  to 
be  a  Ch°aplain ;  but,  judging  from  his  success,  I  am  afraid  he 
still  hankered  after  the  hominy  pots  of  Eebeldom. 

Occasionally,  on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  such  of  the  nurses, 
officers,  attendants,  and  patients  as  could  avail  themselves  of 
it,  were  gathered  in  the  Ball  Room,  for  an  hour's  service,  of 
which  the  singing  was  the  better  part.  To  me  it  seemed  that 
if  ever  strong,  wise,  and  loving  words  were  needed,  it  was 
then  ;  if  ever  mortal  man  had  living  texts  before  his  eyes  to 
illustrate  and  illuminate  his  thought,  it  was  there  ;  and  if  ever 
hearts  were  prompted  to  devoutest  self-abnegation,  it  was  in 
the  work  which  brought  us  to  anything  but  a  Chapel  of  Ease. 
But  some  spiritual  paralysis  seemed  to  have  befallen  our 
pastor  ;  for,  though  many  faces  turned  toward  him,  full  of  the 
dumb  hunger  that  often  comes  to  men  when  suffering  or  danger 
brings  them  nearer  to  the  heart  of  things,  they  were  offered 
the  chaff  of  divinity,  and  its  wheat  was  left  for  less  needy 
gleaners,  who  knew  where  to  look.     Even  the  fine  old  Bible 


82  IlOSPiTAL    SKETCHES. 

Stories,  which  may  be  made  as  lifelike  as  any  history  of  our 
day,  by  a  vivid  funcy  and  pictorial  diction,  were  robi^ed  of  all 
their  charms  by  dry  explanations  and  literal  applications, 
instead  of  being  useful  and  pleasant  k'ssons  to  those  men, 
whom  weakness  had  rendered  as  docile  as  children  in  a  father's 
hands. 

I  watched  the  listless  countenances  all  about  me,  while 
we  listened  to  a  dull  sermon,  delivered  with  a  monotonous 
tone,  a  business-like  manner,  and  a  very  visible  desire  to 
get  the  uninteresting  job  done  as  expeditiously  as  possible ; 
which  demonstrations  were  most  successful  in  making  the 
Sunday  sei-vices  a  duty,  not  a  pleasure.  Listless  they  were 
at  the  beginning,  and  listless  at  the  end  ;  but  the  instant 
some  stirring  old  hymn  was  given  out,  sleepy  eyes  bright- 
ened, lounging  figures  sat  erect,  and  many  a  poor  lad 
rose  up  in  his  bed,  or  stretched  an  eager  hand  for  the 
book,  while  all  broke  out  with  a  heartiness  that  proved 
that  somewhere  at  the  core  of  even  the  most  abandoned, 
there  still  glowed  some  remnant  of  the  native  piety  that 
flows  in  music  from  the  heart  of  every  little  child.  Even 
the  big  rebel  joined,  and  boomed  away  in  a  thunderous  bass, 
sino-ino"  — 

**  Salvation !  let  the  echoes  fly," 

as  energetically  as  if  he  felt  the  need  of  a  speedy  execution 
of  the  command. 

That  was  the  pleasantest  moment  of  the  houi,  for  then  it 
seemed  a  homelike  and  happy  spot ;  the  groups  of  men  looking 
over  one  another's  shoulders  as  they  sang ;  the  few  silent 
figures  in  the  beds ;  here  and  there  a  woman  noiselessly  per- 
forming some  necessary  duty,  and  singing  as  she  worked; 


HOSPITAL    SKKTCUES.  83 

wliile  in  the  arm  chair  standing  in  the  niidtt,  I  placed,  for  my 
own  satisfaction,  the  imaginary  likeness  of  a  certain  faithful 
pastor,  who  took  all  outcasts  by  the  hand,  smote  the  devil  in 
whatever  guise  he  came,  and  comforted  the  indigent  in  spirit 
with  the  best  wisdom  of  a  great  and  tender  heart,  which  still 
speaks  to  us  from  its  Italian  grave.  With  that  addition,  my 
picture  was  complete  ;  and  I  often  longed  to  take  a  veritable 
sketch  of  a  Hospital  Sunday,  for,  desp'te  its  drawbacks, 
consisting  of  continued  labor,  the  want  of  proper  books,  the 
barren  preaching  that  bore  no  fruit,  this  day  was  never  like 
the  other  six. 

True  to  their  home  training,  our  New  England  boys  did 
their  best  to  make  it  what  it  should  be.  With  many,  there 
was  much  reading  of  Testaments,  humming  over  of  favorite 
hymns,  and  looking  at  such  books  as  I  could  cull  from  a 
miscellaneous  library.  Some  hiy  idle,  slept,  or  gossiped  ;  yet, 
when  I  came  to  them  for  a  quiet  evening  chat  or  reading, 
they  often  talked  freely  and  well  of  themselves;  would 
blunder  out  some  timid  hope  that  their  troubles  might 
"do  'em  good,  and  keep  'em  stiddy;"  would  choke  a 
little,  as  they  said  good  night,  and  turned  their  faces  to 
the  wall  to  think  of  mother,  wife,  or  home,  these  human 
ties  seeming  to  be  the  most  vital  religion  which  they  yet 
knew.  I  observed  that  some  of  them  did  not  wear  their 
caps  on  this  day,  though  at  other  times  they  clung  to  them 
like  Quakers ;  wearing  them  in  bed,  putting  them  on  to 
read  the  paper,  eat  an  apple,  or  write  a  letter,  as  if,  like  a 
new  sort  of  Samson,  their  strength  lay,  not  in  their  hair,  but  in 
their  hats.  Many  read  no  novels,  swore  less,  were  more  silent, 
orderly,  and  cheerful,  as  if  the  Lord  were  an  invisible  Ward- 
master,  who  went  his  rounds  but  once  a  week,  and  must  find 
all  things  at  their  best.  I  liked  all  this  in  the  poor,  rough 
boys,  and  cuuld  have  found  it  in  my  heart  to  put  down  spoiigo 


84  UOiPITAL    SKETCHES 

and  tea-pot,  and  preach  a  little  sermon  then  and  there,  while 
homesickness  and  pain  had  made  these  natures  soft,  that  some 
good  seed  might  be  cast  therein,  to  blossom  and  bear  fruit 
here  or  hereafter. 

Regarding  the  admission  of  friends  to  nurse  their  sick,  I 
can  only  say,  it  was  not  allowed  at  Ilurlybm-ly  House  ;  though 
one  indomitable  parent  took  my  ward  by  storm,  and  held  her 
position,  in  spite  of  doctors,  matron,  and  Nurse  Periwinkle. 
Though  it  was  against  the  rules,  though  the  culprit  was  an 
acid,  frost-bitten  female,  though  the  young  man  would  have 
done  quite  as  well  without  her  anxious  fussiness,  and  the  whole 
room-full  been  much  more  comfortable,  there  was  something  so 
irresistible  in  this  persistent  devotion,  that  no  one  had  the 
heart  to  oust  her  from  her  post.  She  slept  on  the  floor,  without 
uttering  a  complaint ;  bore  jokes  somewhat  of  the  rudest ; 
fared  scantily,  though  her  basket  was  daily  filled  with  luxuries 
for  her  boy ;  and  tended  that  petulant  personage  with  a  never- 
failing  patience  beautiful  to  see. 

I  feel  a  glow  of  moral  rectitude  in  saying  this  of  her ;  for, 
though  a  perfect  pelican  to  her  young,  she  pecked  and  cackled 
( I  don't  know  that  pelicans  usually  express  their  emotions  in 
that  manner,)  most  obstreperously,  when  others  invaded  her 
premises  ;  and  led  me  a  weary  life,  with  "  George's  tea-rusks," 
"  George's  foot-bath,"  "  George's  measles,"  and  "  George's 
mother  ;"  till,  after  a  sharp  passage  of  arms  and  tongues  with 
the  matron,  she  wrathfully  packed  up  her  rusks,  her  son,  and 
herself,  and  departed,  in  an  ambulance,  scolding  to  the  very 
last. 

This  is  the  comic  side  of  the  matter.  The  serious  one  is 
harder  to  describe  ;  for  the  presence,  however  brief,  of  rela- 
tions and  friends  by  the  bedsides  of  the  dead  or  dying,  is 
always  a  trial  to  the  bystanders.     They  are  not  near  enough 


UOSPITAL    SKETCUES.  85 

to  know  how  best  to  comfort,  yet  too  near  to  turn  their  backs 
upon  the  sorrow  that  finds  its  only  solace  in  listening  to 
recitals  of  last  words,  brcatbed  into  nurse's  ears,  or  receiving 
the  tender  legacies  of  love  and  longing  bequeathed  through 

them. 

To  me,  the  saddest  sight  I  saw  in  that  sad  place,  was  the 
spectacle  of  a  grey-haired  father,  sitting  hour  after  hour  by 
his  son,  dying  from  the  poison  of  his  wound.     The  old  father, 
hale  and  hearty ;  the  young  son,  past  all  help,   though  one 
could  scarcely  believe  it ;  for  the  subtle  fever,  burning  his 
strength  away,  flushed  his  cheeks  with  color,  filled  his  eyes 
with  lustre,  and  lent  a  mournful  mockery  of  health  to  face  and 
figure,  making  the  poor  lad  comelier  in  death  than  in  life. 
His  bed  was  not  in  my  ward ;  but  I  was  often  in   and  out, 
and,  for  a  day  or  two,  the  pair  were  much  together,  saying 
little,  but  looking  much.     The  old  man  tried  to  busy  himself 
with  book  or  pen,  that  his  presence  might  not  be  a  burden  ; 
and  once,  when  he  sat  writing,  to  the  anxious  mother  at  home, 
doubtless,  I  saw  the  son's  eyes  fixed  upon  his  face,  with  a  look 
of  mingled  resignation  and  regret,  as  if  endeavoring  to  teach 
himself  to  say  cheerfully  the  long  good  bye.     And  again, 
when  the  son  slept,  the  father  watched  him,  as  he  had  himself 
been  watched  ;  and  though  no  feature  of  his  grave  counte- 
nance changed,  the  rough   hand,  smoothing  the  lock  of  hair 
upon  the  pillow,  the  bowed  attitude  of  the  grey  head,  were 
more  pathetic  than  the  loudest  lamentations.     The  son  died  ; 
and  the  father  took  home  the  pale  relic  of  the  life  he  gave, 
offering  a  little  money  to  the  nurse,  as  the  only  visible  return 
it  was  in  his  power  to  make  her ;  for,  though  very  grateful, 
he  was  poor.     Of  course,  she  did  not  take  it,  but  found  a 
richer    compensation    in    the    old    man's    earnest   declaia- 
tioD  : 


fCj  UOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

"My  boy  couldn't  have  been  better  cared  for  if  be'd  been  at 
home  ;  and  God  will  reward  yuu  for  it,  though  I  can't." 

My  own  ex,^eriences  of  this  sort  began  when  my  first  man 
died.  He  had  scarcely  been  removed,  when  his  wife  came  in. 
Her  eye  went  straight  to  the  well-known  bed  ;  it  was  empty ; 
and  feeling,  yet  not  believing  the  hard  truth,  she  cried  out, 
with  a  look  I  never  shall  forget : 

"  Why,  whero's  Emanuel?" 

I  had  never  seen  her  before,  did  not  know  her  relationship 
to  the  man  whom  I  had  only  nursed  for  a  day,  and  was  about 
to  tell  her  he  was  gone,  when  McGee,  the  tender-hearted 
Irishman  bafore  mentioned,  brushed  by  me  with  a  cheerful  — 
"It's  shifted  to  a  better  bed  he  is,  Mrs.  Connel.  Come  out, 
dear,  till  I  show  ye;"  and,  taking  her  gently  by  the  arm,  he 
led  her  to  the  matron,  who  broke  the  heavy  tidings  to  the 
wife,  and  comforted  the  widow. 

Another  day,  running  up  to  my  room  for  a  breath  of  fresh 
air  and  a  five  minutes'  rest  after  a  disagreeable  task.  I  found 
a  stout  young  woman  sitting  on  my  bed,  wearing  the  misera- 
ble look  which  I  had  learned  to  know  bv  that  time.  Seeing: 
her,  reminded  me  that  I  had  heard  of  some  one's  dying  in  the 
night,  and  his  sister's  arriving  in  the  morning.  This  must  be 
she,  I  thought.  I  pitied  her  with  all  my  heart.  What  could 
I  say  or  do  ?  Words  always  seem  impertinent  at  such  times  ; 
I  did  not  know  the  man  :  the  woman  was  neither  interestins: 
in  herself  nor  graceful  in  her  grief;  yet,  having  known  a 
sister's  sorrow  myself,  I  could  not  leave  her  alone  with  her 
trouble  in  that  strange  place,  without  a  word.  So,  feeling 
heart-sick,  home-sick,  and  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  T  just 
pat  my  arms  about  her,  and  began  to  cry  in  a  very  helpless 
but  hearty  wny ;  for,  as  I  seldom  indulge  in  this  moist  luxury, 
I  like  to  enjoy  it  with  all  my  might,  when  I  do. 


HOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 


87 


It  so  happened  I  could  not  have  done  a  better  thing ;  for, 
thougli  not  a  word  was  spoken,  each  felt  the  other's  sympathy; 
and,  in  the  silence,  our  handkereliiefs  were  more  eloquent 
than  words.  She  soon  sobbed  herself  quiet ;  and,  leaving  her 
on  my  bed,  I  went  back  to  work,  feeling  much  refreshed  by 
the  shower,  though  I'd  forgotten  to  rest,  and  had  washed  my 
face  instead  of  my  hands.  I  mention  this  successful  experi- 
ment as  a  receipt  proved  and  approved,  for  the  use  of  any 
nurse  who  may  find  herself  called  upon  to  minister  to  these 
wounds  of  the  heart.  They  will  find  it  more  eihcacious  than 
cups  of  tea,  smelling-bottles,  psalms,  or  sermons;  for  a  friendly 
touch  and  a  companionable  cry,  unite  the  consolations  of  all 
the  rest  for  womankind ;  and,  if  genuine,  will  be  found  a 
sovereign  cure  for  the  first  sharp  pang  so  many  suffer  in  these 
heavy  times. 

I  am  gratified  to  find  that  my  little  Sergeant  has  found 
favor  in  several  quarters,  and  gladly  respond  to  sundry  calls 
for  news  of  him,  though  my  personal  knowledge  ended  five 
months  ago.  Next  to  my  good  John  —  I  hope  the  grass  is 
green  above  him,  far  away  there  in  Virginia  I — I  placed  the 
Sergeant  on  my  list  of  worthy  boys ;  and  many  a  jovial  chat 
have  I  enjoyed  with  the  merry-hearted  lad,  who  had  a  fancy 
for  fun,  when  his  poor  arm  was  dressed.  While  Dr.  P.  poked 
and  strapped,  I  brushed  the  remains  of  the  Sergeant's  brown 
mane  —  shorn  sorely  against  his  will  —  and  gossiped  with  all 
my  might,  the  boy  making  odd  faces,  exclamations,  and 
appeals,  when  nerves  got  the  better  of  nonsense,  as  they 
sometimes  did  : 

*'  I'd  rather  laugh  than  cry,  when  I  must  sing  out  anyhow, 
so  just  say  that  bit  from  Dickens  again,  please,  and  I'll  stand 
it  like  a  man."  He  did;  for  "  Mrs.  Cluppins,"  "Chad- 
band,"  and   "Sam  Weller,"   always  helped   him  through; 


88  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

thereby  causing  me  to  lay  another  offering  of  love  and  admi- 
ration on  the  shrine  of  the  god  of  ray  idolatry,  though  he  does 
wear  too  much  jewelry  and  talk  slang. 

The  Sergeant  also  originated,  I  believe,  the  fashion  of  calling 
his  neighbors  by  their  afflictions  instead  of  their  names  ;  and  I 
was  rather  taken  aback  by  hearing  them  bandy  remarks  of 
this  sort,  with  perfect  good  humor  and  much  enjoyment  of  the 
new  game. 

"  Hallo,  old  Fits  is  off  again  !"  *'  How  are  you,  Kheuma- 
tiz?"  "Will  you  trade  apples,  Ribs?"  "  I  say,  Miss  P., 
may  I  give  Typus  a  drink  of  this  ?"  "  Look  here.  No  Toes, 
lend  us  a  stamp,  there's  a  good  feller,"  etc.  He  himself  was 
christened  "  Baby  B.,"  because  he  tended  his  arm  on  a  little 
pillow,  and  called  it  his  infant. 

Very  fussy  about  his  food  was  Sergeant  B.,  and  much 
trotting  of  attendants  was  necessary  when  he  partook  of  nour- 
ishment. Anything  more  irresistibly  wheedlesome  I  never 
saw,  and  constantly  found  myself  indulging  him,  like  the  most 
weak-minded  parent,  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his 
blue  eyes  twinkle,  his  merry  mouth  break  into  a  smile,  and 
his  one  hand  execute  a  jaunty  little  salute  that  was  entirely 
captivating.  I  am  afraid  that  Nurse  P.  damaged  her  dignity, 
frolicking  with  this  persuasive  young  gentleman,  though  done 
for  his  well-being.  But  "  boys  will  be  boys,"  is  perfectly 
applicable  to  the  case ;  for,  in  spite  of  years,  sex,  and  the 
"  prunes-and-prisms  "  doctrine  laid  down  for  our  use,  I  have 
a  fellow  feeling  for  lads,  and  always  owed  Fate  a  grudge 
because  I  wasn't  a  lord  of  creation  instead  of  a  lady. 

Since  I  left,  I  have  heard,  from  a  reliable  source,  that  my 
Sergeant  has  gone  home  ;  therefore,  the  small  romance  that 
budded  the  first  day  I  saw  him,  has  blossomed  into  its  second 
chapter  ;  and  I  now  imagine  "  dearest  Jane  "  filling  my  place, 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  ^0 

tending  the  wounds  I  tended,  brushing  the  curly  jungle  I 
brushed,  loving  the  excellent  little  youth  I  loved,  and  eventu- 
ally walking  altarward,  with  the  Sergeant  stumping  gallantly 
at  her  side.  If  she  doesn't  do  all  this,  and  no  end  more,  I'll 
never  forgive  her ;  and  sincerely  pray  to  the  guardian  saint 
of  lovers,  that  "  Baby  B."  may  prosper  in  his  wooing,  and 
his  name  be  long  in  the  land. 

One  of  the  lively  episodes  of  hospital  life,  is  the  frequent 
marching  away  of  such  as  are  well  enough  to  rejoin  their 
regiments,  or  betake  themselves  to  some  convalescent  camp. 
The  ward  master  comes  to  the  door  of  each  room  that  is  to  be 
thinned,  reads  off  a  list,  of  names,  bids  their  owners  look 
sharp  and  be  ready  when  called  forj  and,  as  he  vanishes,  the 
rooms  fall  into  an  indescribable  state  of  topsy-turvyness,  as 
the  boys  begin  to  black  their  boots,  brighten  spurs,  brush 
clothes,  overhaul  knapsacks,  make  presents ;  are  fitted  out 
with  needfuls,  and  —  well,  why  not  V  —  kissed  sometimes,  as 
they  say,  good  by ;  for  in  all  human  probability  we  shall 
never  meet  ajjain,  and  a  woman's  heart  yearns  over  anything 
that  has  clung  to  her  for  help  and  comfort.  I  never  liked 
these  breakings-up  of  my  little  household ;  though  my  short 
stay  showed  me  but  three.  I  was  immensely  gratified  by  the 
hand  shakes  I  got,  for  their  somewhat  painful  cordiality  assured 
me  that  I  had  not  tried  in  vain.  The  big  Prussian  rumbled 
out  his  unintelligible  adieux,  with  a  grateful  face  and  a 
premonitory  smooth  of  his  yellow  moustache,  but  got  no 
farther,  for  some  ene  else  stepped  up,  with  a  large  brown  hand 
extended,  and  this  recommendation  of  our  very  faulty  estab- 
lishment : 

'*  We're  off,  ma'am,  and  I'm  powerful  sorry,  for  I'd  no  idea 
a  'orspittle  was  such  a  jolly  place.     Hope  I'll  git  another  ball 


90  HOSPITAL    SKETCULS. 

somewheres  easy,  so  Til  come   back,  and  be  took  care  on 
again.     Mean,  ain't  it  ?" 

I  didn't  think  so,  but  the  doctrine  of  inglorious  eate  was 
not  tbe  the  right  one  to  preach  up,  so  I  tried  to  look  shocked, 
failed  signally,  and  consoled  myself  by  giving  him  the  fat 
pincushion  he  had  admired  as  the  ''  cutest  little  machine 
agoin."  Then  they  fell  into  line  in  front  of  the  house,  looking 
rather  wan  and  feeble,  some  of  them,  but  trying  to  step  out 
smartly  and  march  in  good  order,  though  half  the  knapsacks 
were  carried  by  the  guard,  and  several  leaned  on  sticks  instead 
of  shouldering  guns.  All  looked  up  and  smiled,  or  waved 
heir  hands  and  touched  their  caps,  as  they  passed  under  our 
windows  down  the  long  street,  and  so  away,  some  to  their 
homes  in  this  world,  and  some  to  that  in  the  next ;  and,  for 
the  rest  of  the  day,  I  felt  like  Ptachcl  mourning  for  her 
children,  when  I  saw  the  empty  beds  and  missed  the  familiar 
faces. 

You  ask  if  nurses  are  obliged  to  witness  amputations  and 
such  matters,  as  a  part  of  their  duty  ?  I  think  not,  unless 
they  wish ;  for  the  patient  is  under  the  effects  of  ether,  and 
needs  no  care  but  such  as  the  surgeons  can  best  give.  Our 
work  begins  afterward,  when  the  poor  soul  comes  to  himself, 
sick,  faint,  and  wandering  ;  full  of  strange  pains  and  confused 
visions,  of  disagreeable  sensations  and  sights.  Then  we  must 
sooth  and  sustain,  tend  and  watch  ;  preaching  and  practicing 
patience,  till  sleep  and  time  have  restored  courage  and  self- 
control. 

I  witnessed  several  operations ;  for  the  height  of  my  ambition 
was  to  go  to  the  front  after  a  battle,  and  feeling  that  the  sooner 
I  inured  myself  to  trying  sights,  the  more  useful  I  should  be. 
Several  of  my  mates  shrunk  from  such  things  ;  for  though  the 


nOSPlTAI,    SKLTCUES.  ^'• 

spirit  was  wboUy  billing,  tl.o  flesh  was  inconveniently  weak. 
One  funereal  lady  can.e  to  try  her  rowers  as  a  nur.e  ;  buc^ a 
brief  conversation  eliciting  the  facts  that  she  amted  at  the 
si.ht  of  blood,  was  afraid  to  watch  alone,  couldn  t  possibly 
take  eare  of  delirious  persons,  was  nervous  about  infeeUons. 
and  unable  to  bear  much  fatigue,  she  was  r^ddly  d.^nssed. 
I  hope  she  found  her  sphere,  but  fancy  a  comfortable  bandbox 
on  a  hi.vh  shelf  would  best  meet  the  requirements  of  ber  case 

Dr  Z  su"-csted  that  I  should  witness  a  dissection  ;  but  i 
never  aecepte°dhis  Invitations,  thinkingthat  my  nerves  belonged 
,0  the  livin.,  not  to  the  dead,  and  I  had  better  finish  my  educa- 
tion as  a  nurse  before  I  began  that  of  a  surgeon.  But  1 
never  met  the  little  man  skipping  through  the  hall,  wUh  oddly 
shaped  cases  in  his  hand,  and  an  absorbed  expression  of  couu- 
tenLe,  without  being  sure  that  a  ..elect  party  of  surgeons 
were  at  work  in  the  dead  house,  which  idea  was  a  rather  trying 
one,  when  I  knew  the  subject  was  some  person  whom  I  had 
nursed  and  cared  for. 

But  this  must  not  lead  any  one  to  suppose  that  the  surgeons 
were  willfully  hard  or  cruel,  though  one  of  them  remorsefully 
confided  to  me  that  he  feared  his  profession  blunted  his  sensi- 
bilities, and,  perhaps,  reuderea  him  indifferent  to  the  sight  of 

''"T  am  inclined  to  think  that  in  some  cases  it  does  ;  for,  though 
a  capital  surgeon  and  a  kindly  man.  Dr.  P..  through  long 
acquaintance  with  many  of  the  ills  flesh  is  heir  to  had  acquired 
a  somewhat  trying  habit  of  regarding  a  man  and  his  wound  as 
separate  institutions,  and  seemed  rather  annoyed  that  the 
former  should  express  any  opinion  upon  the  Utter,  or  claim 
any  ri-ht  in  it,  while  under  his  care.  He  had  a  way  of 
twLbi^g  off  a  bandage,  and  giving  a  limb  a  comprehensive 
eort  of  clutch,  which,  though  no  doubt  entirely  scientific,  was 


92  iiosi'ital  skltciils. 

rather  startling  than  soothing,  and  highly  objectionable  as  a 
means  of  preparing  nerves  for  any  fresh  trial.  He  also 
expected  the  patient  to  assist  in  small  operations,  as  he  consid- 
ered them,  and  to  restrain  all  demonstrations  during  the 
process. 

"  Here,  my  man,  just  hold  it  this  way,  while  I  look  into  it 
a  bit,"  he  said  one  day  to  Fitz  G.,  putting  a  wounded  arm 
into  the  keeping  of  a  sound  one,  and  proceeding  to  poke 
about  among  bits  of  bone  and  visible  muscles,  in  a  red  and 
black  chasm  made  by  some  infernal  machine  of  the  shot  or 
shell  description.  Poor  Fitz  held  on  like  grim  Death,  ashamed 
to  show  fear  before  a  woman,  till  it  grew  more  than  he  could 
bear  in  silence  ;  and,  after  a  few  smothered  groans,  he  looked 
at  me  imploringly,  as  if  he  said,  "I  wouldn't,  ma'am,  if  I 
could  help  it,"  and  fainted  quietly  away. 

Dr.  P.  looked  up,  gave  a  compassionate  sort  of  cluck,  and 
poked  away  more  busily  than  ever,  with  a  nod  at  me  and  a 
brief —  "  Never  mind ;  be  so  good  as  to  hold  this  till  I  finish." 

I  obeyed,  cherishing  the  while  a  strong  desire  to  insinuate  a 
few  of  his  own  disagreeable  knives  and  scissors  into  him,  and 
see  how  he  liked  it.  A  very  disrespectful  and  ridiculous 
fancy,  of  course  ;  for  he  was  doing  all  that  could  be  done, 
and  the  arm  prospered  finely  in  his  hands.  But  the  human 
mind  is  prone  to  prejudice  ;  and,  though  a  personable  man, 
speaking  French  like  a  born  "  Parley  voo,"  and  whipping  off 
legs  like  an  animated  guillotine,  I  must  confess  to  a  sense  of 
relief  when  he  was  ordered  elsewhere ;  and  suspect  that  several 
of  the  men  would  have  faced  a  rebel  battery  with  less  trepida- 
tion than  they  did  Dr.  P.,  when  he  came  briskly  in  on  his 
morning  round. 

As  if  to  give  us  the  pleasures  of  contrast.  Dr.  Z.  succeeded 
him,  who,  I  think,  suffered  more  in  giving  pain  than  did  his 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  93 

patients  in  enduring  it ;  for  he  often  paused  to  ask:  *'  Do  I 
hurt  you?"  and,  seeing  his  solicitude,  the  boys  invariably 
answered  :  "  Not  much  ;  go  ahead.  Doctor,"  though  the  lips 
that  uttered  this  amiable  fib  might  be  white  with  pain  as  they 
spoke.  Over  the  dressing  of  some  of  the  wounds,  we  used 
to  caiTy  on  conversations  upon  subjects  foreign  to  the  work  in 
hand,  that  the  patient  might  forget  himself  in  the  charms  of 
our  discourse.  Christmas  eve  was  spent  in  this  way ;  the 
Doctor  strapping  the  little  Sergeant's  arm,  I  holding  the  lamp, 
while  all  three  lauo;hed  and  talked,  as  if  anywhere  but  in  a 
hospital  ward  ;  except  when  the  chat  was  broken  by  a  long- 
drawn  *'  Oh  !  "  from  "  Baby  B.,"  an  abrupt  request  from  the 
Doctor  to  "  Hold  the  lamp  a  little  higher,  please,"  or  an 
encouraging,  "  Most  through.  Sergeant,"  from  Nurse  P. 

The  chief  Surgeon,  Dr.  0.,  I  was  told,  refused  the  higher 
salary,  greater  honor,  and  less  labor,  of  an  appointment  to 
the  Officer's  Hospital,  round  the  corner,  that  he  might  serve 
the  poor  fellows  at  Hurlyburly  House,  or  go  to  the  front, 
working  there  day  and  night,  among  the  horrors  that  succeed 
the  glories  of  a  battle.  I  liked  that  so  much,  that  the  quiet, 
brown-eyed  Doctor  was  my  especial  admiration  ;  and  when  my 
own  turn  came,  had  more  faith  in  him  than  in  all  the  rest 
put  together,  "although  he  did  advise  me  to  go  home,  and 
authorize  the  consumption  of  blue  pills. 

Speaking  of  the  surgeons  reminds  me  that,  having  found  all 
manner  of  fault,  it  becomes  me  to  celebrate  the  redeeming 
feature  of  Hurlyburly  House.  I  had  been  prepared  by  the 
accounts  of  others,  to  expect  much  humiliation  of  spirit  from 
the  surgeons,  and  to  be  treated  by  them  like  a  door-mat,  a 
worm,  or  any  other  meek  and  lowly  article,  whose  mission  it 
is  to  be  put  down  and  walked  upon  ;  nurses  being  considered 
as  mere  servants,  receiving  the  lowest  pay,  and,  it's  my  private 


94  HOSPITAL    SKETCHES. 

opinion,  doing  the  hardest  work  of  any  part  of  the  army, 
except  the  mules.  Great,  therefore,  was  my  surprise,  when  I 
found  myself  treated  with  the  utmost  courtesy  and  kindness. 
Very  soon  my  carefully  prepared  meekness  was  laid  upon  the 
shelf;  and,  going  from  one  extreme  to  the  other,  I  more  than 
once  expressed  a  difference  of  opinion  regarding  sundry  messes 
it  was  my  painful  duty  to  administer. 

As  eight  of  us  nurses  chanced  to  be  off  duty  at  once,  we 
bad  an  excellent  opportunity  of  trying  the  virtues  of  these 
gentlemen  ;  and  I  am  bound  to  say  they  stood  the  test  admi- 
rably, as  far  as  my  personal  observation  went.  Dr.  O.'s 
stethoscope  was  unremitting  in  its  attentions  ;  Dr.  S.  brought 
bis  buttons  into  my  room  twice  a  day,  with  the  regularity  of  a 
medical  clock  ;  while  Dr.  Z.  filled  my  table  with  neat  little 
bottles,  which  I  never  emptied,  prescribed  Browning,  bedewed 
me  witb  Cologne,  and  kept  my  fire  going,  as  if,  like  the 
candles  in  St.  Peter's,  it  must  never  be  permitted  to  die  out. 
Waking  one  cold  night,  with  the  certainty  that  m}'  last  spark 
had  expired,  and  consef|uently  hours  of  coughing  were  in 
store  for  me,  I  was  much  amazed  to  see  a  ruddy  light  dancing 
on  the  wall,  a  jolly  blaze  roaring  up  the  chimney,  and,  down 
upon  his  knees  before  it,  Dr.  Z,,  whittling  shavings.  I  ought 
to  have  risen  up  and  thanked  him  on  the  spot ;  but,  knowing 
that  he  was  one  of  those  who  like  to  do  good  by  stealth,  I 
only  peeped  at  him  as  if  he  were  a  friendly  ghost ;  till,  having 
made  things  as  cozy  as  the  most  motherly  of  nurses  could 
have  done,  he  crept  away,  leaving  me  to  feel,  as  somebody 
says,  "  as  if  angels  were  a  watching  of  me  in  my  sleep  ;" 
though  that  species  of  wild  fowl  do  not  usually  descend  in 
broadcloth  and  glasses.  I  afterwards  discovered  that  he  split 
the  wood  himself  on  that  cool  January  midnight,  and  went 
about  making  or  mending  fires  fur  the  poor  old  ladies  in  their 


HOSPITAL    SKETCHES.  95 

dismal  dens  ;  thus  causing  himself  to  be  regarded  as  a  bright 
and  sliining  light  in  more  ways  than  one.    I  never  thanked  him 
as  I  ought ;  therefore,  I  publicly  make  a  note  of  it,  and  further 
aggravate  that  modest  M.  D.  by  saying  that  if  this  was  not 
being  the  best  of  doctors  and  the  gentlest  of  gentlemen,  I  shall 
be  happy  to  see  any  improvement  upon  it. 

To  such  as  wish  to  know  where  these  scenes  took  place,  I 
must  respectfully  decline  to  answer ;  for  Hurly-burly  House 
has  ceased  to  exist  as  a  hospital ;  so  let  it  rest,  with  all  its 
sins  upon  its  head,  —  perhaps  I  should  say  chimney  top. 
When  the  nurses  felt  ill,  the  doctors  departed,  and  the  patients 
got  well,  I  believe  the  concern  gently  faded  from  existence,  or 
was  merged  into  some  other  and  better  establishment,  where  I 
hope  the  washing  of  three  hundred  sick  people  is  done  out  of 
the  house,  the  food  is  eatable,  and  mortal  women  are  not 
expected  to  possess  an  angelic  exemption  from  all  wants,  and 
the  endurance  of  truck  horses. 

Since  the  appearance  of  these  hasty  Sketches,  I  have  heard 
from  several  of  my  comrades  at  the  Hospital ;  and  their 
approval  assures  me  that  I  have  not  let  sympathy  and  fancy 
run  away  with  me,  as  that  lively  team  is  apt  to  do  when 
harnessed  to  a  pen.  As  no  two  persons  see  the  same  thing 
with  the  same  eyes,  my  view  of  hospital  life  must  be  taken 
through  my  glass,  and  held  for  what  it  is  worth.  Certainly, 
nothing  was  set  down  in  malice,  and  to  the  serious-minded 
party  who  objected  to  a  tone  of  levity  in  some  portions  of  the 
Sketches,  I  can  only  say  that  it  is  a  part  of  my  religion  to 
look  well  after  the  cheerfulnesses  of  life,  and  let  the  dismals 
shift  for  themselves  ;  believing,  with  good  Sir  Thomas  More, 
that  it  is  wise  to  "  be  merrie  in  God." 

The  next  hospital  I  enter  will,  I  hope,  be  one  for  the 
colored  regiments,  as  they  seem  to  be  proving  their  right  to 


96  HOSPITAL    SKETCUES. 

the  admiration  and  kind  ofEces  of  their  white  relations,  who 
owe  them  so  large  a  debt,  a  little  part  of  which  I  shall  be 
proud  to  pa  J. 

Vours, 

With  a  firm  faith 

In  the  good  time  coming, 

Tribulation  Plkiwinkle. 

Concord,  April,  1863. 


CAMP  AND   FIRESIDE   STORIES. 

(97) 


THE   KING   OF   CLUBS 

AND 

THE     QUEEN    OF     HEARTS. 

A  STORY  FOR  YOUNG  AMERICA, 

FIVE-and-twenty  ladies,  all  in  a  row,  sat  on  one  side 
of  the  haU,  looking  very  much  as  if  they  felt  like  the 
little  old  woman  who  fell  asleep  on  the  king's  highway 
and  awoke  with  abbreviated  drapery,  for  they  were  all 
arrayed  in  gray  tunics  and  Turkish  continuations,  pro- 
fusely adorned  with  many-colored  trimmings.  Five-and- 
twenty  gentlemen,  all  in  a  row,  sat  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  hall,  looking  somewhat  subdued,  as  men  are  apt  to 
do  when  they  fancy  they  are  in  danger  of  making  fools 
of  themselves.  They,  also,  were  en  costume,  for  all  the 
dark  ones  had  grown  piratical  in  red  shirts,  the  light  ones 
nautical  in  blue ;  and  a  few  boldly  appeared  in  white, 
making  up  in  starch  and  studs  what  they  lost  in  color, 
while  all  were  more  or  less  B}Tonic  as  to  collar. 

On  the  platform  appeared  a  pile  of  dumb-bells,  a 
regiment  of  clubs,  and  a  pyramid  of  bean-bags,  and 
stirring  nervously  among  them  a  foreign-looking  gen- 
tleman, the  new  leader  of  a  class  lately  formed  by 
Dr.  Thor  Turner,  whose  mission  it  was  to  strengthen 
the  world's  spine,  and  convert  it  to  a  belief  in  air  and 
(99) 


lOO  CAMP    AND    riRESlDE    STORIES. 

exercise,  by  setting  it  to  balancing  its  poles  and  spinning 
merrilj,  while  enjoying  the  "  Sun-cnre"  on  a  large  scale. 
His  advent  formed  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  town  ; 
for  it  was  a  quiet  old  village,  guiltless  of  bustle,  fashion, 
or  parade,  where  each  man  stood  for  what  he  was  ;  and, 
being  a  sagacious  set,  every  one's  true  value  was  pretty 
accurately  known.  It  was  a  neighborly  town,  with 
gossip  enough  to  stir  the  social  atmosphere  with  small 
gusts  of  interest  or  wonder,  yet  do  no  harm.  A  sensible, 
free-and-easy  town,  for  the  wisest  man  in  it  wore  the 
worst  boots,  and  no  one  thought  the  less  of  his  under- 
standing ;  the  belle  of  the  village  went  shopjjing  with 
a  big  Sim-bonnet  and  tin  pail,  and  no  one  found  her 
beauty  lessened  ;  oddities  of  all  sorts  ambled  peacefully 
about  on  their  various  hobbies,  and  no  one  suggested 
the  expediency  of  a  trip  on  the  wooden  horse  upon 
which  the  chivalrous  South  is  always  eager  to  mount 
an  irrepressible  abolitionist.  Restless  people  were  soothed 
by  the  lullaby  the  river  sang  in  its  slow  journey  to  the 
sea,  old  people  found  here  a  pleasant  place  to  make 
ready  to  die  in,  young  people  to  survey  the  world  from, 
before  taking  their  first  flight,  and  strangers  looked  back 
upon  it,  as  a  quiet  nook  full  of  ancient  legends  and 
modem  lights,  which  would  keep  its  memory  green 
when  many  a  gayer  spot  was  quite  forgotten.  Anything 
based  upon  common  sense  found  favor  with  the  inhabit- 
ants, and  Dr.  Turner's  theories,  being  eminently  so, 
were  accepted  at  once,  and  energetically  carried  out.  A 
sort  of  heathen  revival  took  place,  for  even  the  ministers 
and  deacons  turned  Musselmen  ;  old  ladies  tossed  bean- 
bags  till  their  caps  were  awTy,  and  winter-roses  blos- 
somed on  their  cheeks  ;  school-childi-en  proved  the  worth 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    lOI 

of  the  old  proverb,  "  An  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a 
pound  of  cure,"  by  getting  their  backs  ready  before  the 
burdens  came  ;  pale  girls  grew  blithe  and  strong  swing- 
ing their  dumb  namesakes  ;  and  jolly  lads  marched  to  and 
fro  embracing  clubs  as  if  longevity  were  corked  up  in 
those  wooden  bottles,  and  they  all  took  "  modest  quench- 
ers "  by  the  way. 

August  Bopp,  the  new  leader  of  the  class,  was  a  Ger- 
man possessing  but  a  small  stock  of  English,  though  a 
line  gymnast ;  and  being  also  a  bashful  man,  the  appointed 
moment  had  no  sooner  arrived  than  he  found  his  care- 
fully prepared  sentences  slipping  away  from  his  memory 
as  the  ice  appears  to  do  from  under  unhappy  souls  first 
mounted  upon  skates.  An  awful  silence  reigned:  Mr. 
Bopp  glanced  nervously  over  his  shoulder  at  the  staring 
rows,  more  appalling  in  their  stillness  than  if  they  had 
risen  up  and  hooted  at  him  ;  then  piling  up  the  bags  for 
the  seventh  time,  he  gave  himself  a  mental  shake, -and, 
with  a  crimson  visage,  was  about  to  launch  his  first 
"  Ladees  imd  gentlemen,"  when  the  door  opened,  and  a 
small,  merry-faced  figure  appeared,  looking  quite  at  ease 
in  the  novel  dress,  as,  with  a  comprehensive  nod,  it 
marched  straight  across  the  hall  to  its  place  among  the 
weaker  vessels. 

A  general  glance  of  approbation  followed  from  the  gen- 
tlemen's side,  a  welcoming  murmur  ran  along  the  ladies', 
and  the  fifty  pairs  of  eyes  changed  their  focus  for  a  mo- 
ment. Taking  advantage  of  which,  Mr.  Bopp  righted 
himself,  and  burst  out  with  a  decided,  — 

"  Ladees  und  gentlemen :  the  time  have  arrived  that 
we  shall  bedn.     Will  the  gentlemen  serve  the  ladees  to  a 


I02  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

waud,  each  oiie,  then  spread  theirselves  about  the  hall, 
and  follow  the  motions  I  will  make  as  I  shall  count." 

Five  minutes  of  chaos,  then  all  fell  into  order,  and 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  leader's  voice  and  the  stir  of 
many  bodies  movings  imultaucously.  An  uninitiated  ob- 
server would  have  thought  himself  in  Bedlam  ;  for,  as  the 
evening  wore  on,  the  laws  of  society  seemed  given  to  the 
winds,  and  humanity  gone  mad.  Bags  flew  in  all  direc- 
tions, clubs  hurtled  through  the  air,  and  dumb-bells  played 
a  castinet  accompaniment  to  peals  of  laugliter  that  made 
better  music  than  any  band.  Old  and  young  gave  them- 
selves up  to  the  universal  merriment,  and,  setting  dignity 
aside,  played  like  happy-hearted  children  for  an  hour. 
Stout  Dr.  Quackenboss  gasped  twice  round  the  hall  on 
one  toe  ;  stately  Mrs.  Primmins  ran  Uke  a  girl  of  fifteen 
to  get  her  pins  home  before  her  competitor ;  Tommy 
Inches,  four  feet  three,  trotted  away  with  Deacon  Stone 
on  his  shoulder,  while  Mr.  Steepleton  and  Miss  Maypole 
hopped  together  like  a  pair  of  lively  young  ostriches,  and 
Ked  Amandine,  the  village  beau,  blew  arrows  through  a 
pop-gun,  like  a  modern  Cupid  in  pegtops  instead  of 
pinions. 

The  sprightly  young  lady  whose  entrance  had  been  so 
opportune  seemed  a  universal  favorite,  and  was  over- 
whelmed with  invitations  to  "  bag,"  "  hop,"  and  "  blow  " 
from  the  gentlemen  who  hovered  about  her,  cheerfully 
distorting  themselves  to  the  verge  of  dislocation  in  order 
to  win  a  glance  of  approbation  from  the  merry  black 
eyes  which  were  the  tapers  where  all  these  muscular 
moths  singed  their  wings.  Mr.  Bopp  had  never  seen  such 
a  little  piece  of  earnestness  before,  and  began  to  think 
the  young  lady  must  be  training  for  a  boat-race  or  the 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QLTEEN    OF    HEARTS.         I03 

riug.  Her  dumb-bells  flew  about  till  a  pair  of  Avliite 
arms  looked  like  the  sails  of  a  windmill ;  she  hit  out 
from  the  shoulder  with  a  vigor  that  would  have  doue 
execution  had  there  been  anything  but  empty  air  to 
"  punish  "  ;  and  the  '*  one,  two,  three  !  "  of  the  Zouave 
movement  went  off  with  a  snap  ;  while  the  color  deep- 
ened from  pink  to  scarlet  in  her  cheeks,  the  black  braids 
tumbled  down  upon  her  shoulders,  and  the  clasp  of  her 
belt  flew  asunder ;  but  her  eye  seldom  left  the  leader's 
face,  and  she  followed  every  motion  with  an  agility  and 
precision  quite  inspiring.  Mr.  Bopp's  courage  rose  as 
he  watched  her,  and  a  burning  desire  to  excel  took  pos- 
session of  him,  till  he  felt  as  if  his  muscles  were  made 
of  india-rubber,  and  his  nerves  of  iron.  He  went  into 
his  work  heart  and  soul,  shaking  a  brown  mane  out  of 
his  eyes,  issuing  commands  like  a  general  at  the  head  of 
his  troops,  and  keeping  both  interest  and  fun  in  full  blast 
till  people  laughed  who  had  not  laughed  heartily  for  years  ; 
lungs  got  their  fill  for  once,  unsuspected  muscles  were 
suddenly  developed,  and  when  the  clock  struck  ten,  all 
were  bubbling  over  with  that  innocent  jollity  which 
makes  youth  worth  possessing,  and  its  memory  the  sun- 
shine of  old  age. 

The  last  exercise  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  a  large 
ring  of  respectable  members  of  society  were  violently 
sitting  do^vn  and  rising  up  in  a  manner  which  would  have 
scandalized  Miss  Wilhelmina  Carolina  Amelia  Skeggs  to 
the  last  degree,  when  Mr.  Bopp  was  seen  to  grow  very 
pale,  and  drop  in  a  manner  which  it  was  evident  his 
pupils  were  not  expected  to  follow. 

At  this  unexpected  performance,  the  gentlemen  took 
advantage  of  their  newly-acquired  agility  to  fly  over  all 


I04  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

obstacles  and  swarm  od  to  the  platform,  while  the  ladies 
successfully  lessened  their  unusual  bloom  by  staring  wildly 
at  one  another  and  suggesting  awful  impossibilities.  The 
bustle  subsided  as  suddenly  as  it  arose  ;  and  Mr.  Bopp, 
rather  damp  about  the  head  and  dizzy  about  the  eye,  but 
quite  composed,  appeared,  saying,  with  the  broken  Eng- 
lish and  appealing  manner  which  caused  all  the  ladies  to 
pronounce  him  "  a  dear  "  on  the  spot,  — 

"  I  hope  you  will  excoose  me  for  making  this  lesson  to 
be  more  short  than  it  should :  but  I  have  exercise  nine 
hours  this  day,  and  being  just  got  well  from  a  illness,  I 
have  not  recover  the  strength  I  have  lost.  Next  week  I 
shall  be  able  to  take  time  by  the  hair,  so  that  I  will  not 
have  so  much  engagements  in  one  day.  I  thank  you  for 
your  kindness,  and  say  good-efening." 

After  a  round  of  applause,  as  a  last  vent  for  their 
spirits,  the  class  dispersed,  and  Mr.  Bopp  was  wTestHng 
"with  a  vicious  pin  as  he  put  on  his  collar  ("a  sure  sign 
he  has  no  ma  to  see  to  his  buttons,  poor  lamb  !  "  thought 
Mrs.  Fairbairn,  watching  him  from  afar)  ;  when  the 
sprightly  young  lady,  accompanied  by  a  lad  the  masculine 
image  of  herself,  appeared  upon  the  platform,  saying, 
with  an  aspect  as  cordial  as  her  words,  — 

*'  Good-evening,  sir.  Allow  me  to  introduce  my 
brother  and  myself,  Dick  and  Dolly  TVard,  and  ask  you, 
in  my  mother's  name,  to  come  home  with  us  ;  for  the 
tavern  is  not  a  cosy  place,  and  after  all  this  exertion  you 
should  be  made  comfortable.  Please  come,  for  Dr.  Tur- 
ner always  stayed  wdth  us,  and  we  promised  to  do  the 
honors  of  the  to■\^^l  to  any  gentleman  he  might  send  to 
supply  his  place." 

''  Of  course  we  did  ;  and  mother  is  probably  freezing 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QUEEN    OF    HEARTS.  IO5 

her  blessed  nose  off  watching  for  us  ;  so  don't  disappoint 
her,  Bopp.  It's  all  settled  ;  the  sleigh's  at  the  door,  and 
here's  your  coat ;  so,  come  on  !  " 

Dick  was  a  fine  sample  of  young  America  in  its  best 
aspect,  and  would  have  said  "  How  are  you?  "  to  Louis 
Napoleon  if  he  had  been  at  hand,  and  have  done  it  so 
heartily  that  the  great  Frenchman  would  have  found  it 
hard  to  resist  giving  as  frank  an  answer.  Therefore,  no 
wonder  that  Mr.  Bopp  surrendered  at  once  ;  for  the 
young  gentleman  took  possession  of  him  bodily,  and  shook 
him  into  his  coat  with  an  amiable  impetuosity  which 
developed  a  sudden  rent  in  the  well-worn  sleeve  thereof, 
and  caused  an  expression  of  dismay  to  dawn  upon  the 
owner's  countenance. 

"  Beg  pardon  ;  never  mind  ;  mother'll  sew  you  up  in 
two  seconds,  and  your  overcoat  will  hide  the  damage. 
^Tiere  is  it  ?     I'll  get  it,  and  then  we'll  be  off." 

Mr.  Bopp  colored  distressfully,  looked  up,  looked  down, 
and  then  straight  into  the  lad's  face,  saying  simply,  — 
"  Thank  you  ;  I  haf  no  coat  but  one." 
Dick  opened  his  eyes,  and  was  about  opening  his  mouth 
also,  for  the  exit  of  some  blunderingly  good-natured 
reply,  when  a  warning  poke  from  his  sister  restrained 
him  ;  while  Dolly,  with  the  innocent  hypocrisy  which  is  as 
natural  to  some  women  as  the  art  of  tymg  bows,  said,  as 
she  led  the  way  out,  — 

"  You  see  the  worth  of  gymnastics,  Dick,  in  this 
delightful  indifference  to  cold.  I  sincerely  hope  we  may 
reach  a  like  enviable  state  of  heahh,  and  look  upon  great- 
coats as  effeminate,  and  mufflers  a  weakness  of  the  flesh. 
Do  you  think  we  shall,  Mr.  Bopp  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head  with  a  perceptible  shiver  as  the  keen 


I06  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

north  wind  smote  him  in  the  face,  but  answered,  with  a 
look  half  raeriy,  half  sad,  — 

"•  It  is  not  choice,  but  Avliat  you  call  necessitee,  with 
me  ;  and  I  truly  hope  you  may  never  haf  to  exercise  to 
keep  life  in  you  when  you  haf  sold  your  coat  to  pay  your 
doctor's  bill,  or  teach  the  art  of  laughing  while  your 
heart  is  hea^y  as  one  stone.  You  would  not  like  that,  I 
think,  yet  it  is  good,  too  ;  for  small  things  make  much 
happiness  for  me,  and  a  kind  word  is  often  better  than  a 
rix-doUar." 

There  was  something  in  the  young  man's  tone  and 
manner  which  touched  and  won  his  hearers  at  once. 
Dolly  secretly  resolved  to  put  an  extra  blanket  on  his  bed, 
and  shower  kind  words  upon  him,  while  Dick  tucked  him 
up  in  buffalo  robes,  where  he  sat  helplessly  beaming  down 
upon  the  red  hood  at  his  side. 

A  roaring  fire  shone  out  hospitably  as  they  came,  and 
glorified  the  pleasant  room,  dancing  on  ancient  furniture 
and  pictured  walls  till  the  jolly  old  portraits  seemed  to 
wink  a  visible  welcome.  A  cheery-faced  little  w^oman, 
like  an  elder  Dolly,  in  a  widow's  cap,  stood  on  the 
threshold,  with  a  friendly  greeting  for  the  stranger,  which 
warmed  him  as  no  fire  could  have  done. 

If  August  Bopp  had  been  an  Englishman,  he  would 
have  felt  much,  but  said  less  on  that  account ;  if  he  had 
been  an  American,  he  would  have  tried  to  conceal  his 
poverty,  and  impress  the  family  with  his  past  grandeur, 
present  importance,  or  future  prospects  ;  being  a  German, 
he  showed  exactly  what  he  was,  with  the  childlike  frank- 
ness of  his  race.  Having  had  no  dinner,  he  ate  heartily 
of  what  was  offered  him ;  being  cold,  he  basked  in  the 
generous  warmth  ;  being  homesick  and  solitary,  he  en- 


KING    OF   CLUBS    AND    QUEEN    OF    HEARTS.         lO/ 

ioyed  the  genial  influences  tliat  surrounded  him,  and 
told  his  story,  sure  of  sjinpathy ;  for  even  in  prosaic 
Yankecdom  he  had  found  it,  as  travellers  find  Alpine 
flowers  among  the  snow. 

It  was  a  simple  story  of  a  laborious  boyhood,  bemg 
early  left  an  orphan,  with  a  little  sister  dependent  on  him, 
till  an  opening  in  America  tempted  him  to  leave  her,  and 
come  to  trv  and  earn  a  home  for  her  and  for  himself. 
Sickness,  misfortune,  and  disappointment  had  been  his 
companions  for  a  year  ;  but  he  still  worked,  still  hoped 
and  waited  for  the  happy  hour  Avhen  little  Ulla  should 
come  to  him  across  the  sea.  This  was  aU ;  yet  as  he 
told  it,  with  the  magical  accompanunents  of  gesture, 
look,  and  tone,  it  seemed  full  of  pathos  and  romance  to 
his  listeners,  whose  faces  proved  their  interest  more  flat- 
teringly than  their  words. 

Mrs^  Ward  mended  the  torn  coat  Tvdth  mothei^y  zeal, 
and  -ave  it  many  of  those  timely  stitches  which  thrifty 
women  love  to  sew.  The  young  folks  devoted  themselves 
to  their  n-uest,  each  in  a  characteristic  manner.  Dick,  as 
hosi,  offered  every  article  of  refreshment  the  house 
afforded,  goaded  the  fire  to  a  perpetual  roar,  and  discussed 
oymnastics,  with  bursts  of  boyish  admiration  for  the 
^ace  and  skill  of  his  new  leader,  whom  he  christened 
Kin-  of  Clubs  on  the  spot.  Dolly  made  the  stranger  one 
of  them  at  once  by  talking  bad  German,  as  an  offset  to 
his  bad  Encrhsh,  and  unconsciously  s^nnboUzed  his  future 
bondage  by  giving  him  a  tangled  skein  to  hold  for  the 
furtherance  of  her  mother's  somewhat  lengthened  job. 

The  Cupid  of  the  present  day  was  undoubtedly  "  raised" 
in  Connecticut ;  for  the  ingenuity  and  shrewdness  of  that 
small  personage  could  have  sprung  from  no  other  soil.    In 


loS  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

former  times  bis  stratagems  were  of  the  romantic  order. 
Colin  bleated  forth  his  passion  in  rhyme,  and  cast  sheep's 
eyes  from  among  his  flock,  while  Phyllis  coquetted  with 
her  crook  and  stuck  posies  in  his  hat ;  royal  Ferdinand 
and  Miranda  played  at  chess  ;  Ivanhoc  upset  his  fellow- 
men  like  nine-pins  for  love  of  lackadaisical  Rowena ;  and 
"  sweet  Moll "  turned  the  pages  while  her  lover,  Milton, 
sang.  But  in  our  day,  the  jolly  little  god,  though  still  a 
heathen  in  the  severe  simplicity  of  his  attire,  has  become 
modernized  in  his  arts,  and  invented  huskmgs,  apple-bees, 
sleigh-rides,  "  dropins,"  g}Timastics,  and,  among  his  finer 
snares,  the  putting  on  of  skates,  di'awing  of  patterns,  and 
holding  skeins,  —  the  last-named  having  superior  advan- 
tages over  the  others,  as  all  will  testify  who  have  enjoyed 
one  of  those  hand-to-hand  skirmishes. 

August  Bopp  was  three-and-twenty,  imaginative,  grate- 
ful and  heart-whole  ;  therefore,  when  he  found  himself 
sitting  opposite  a  blooming  little  damsel,  with  a  head 
bound  by  a  pretty  red  snood  bent  down  before  him,  and 
very  close  to  his  own  a  pair  of  distracting  hands,  every 
finger  of  which  had  a  hit  to  make,  and  made  it,  it  is  not 
to  be  denied  that  he  felt  himself  entering  upon  a  new  and 
very  agreeable  experience.  Where  could  he  look  but  in 
the  face  opposite,  sometimes  so  girlishly  merry  and  some- 
times so  beautifully  shy?  It  was  a  winning  face,  full  of 
smooth  curves,  fresh  colors,  and  sunshiny  t-vvinkles,  —  a 
face  every  one  liked,  for  it  was  as  changeful  as  an  April 
day,  and  always  pleasant,  whether  mischievous,  mourn- 
ful or  demure. 

Like  one  watching  a  new  picture,  Mr.  Bopp  inspected 
every  feature  of  the  countenance  so  near  his  0"s^ti  ;  and 
as  his  admu'ation  "  grew  by  what  it  fed  on,"  he  fell  into 


?1 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QLTEEN    OF    HEARTS.         IO9 

a  clirouic  sstate  of  stammer  and  blush  ;  for  the  frank  eyes 
were  very  kind,  the  smooth  cheeks  reflected  a  pretty 
shade  of  his  own  crimson,  and  the  smiling  lips  seemed 
constantly  suggesting,  with  mute  eloquence,  that  they 
were  made  for  kissing,  while  the  expressive  hands  picked 
at  the  knots  till  August  felt  like  a  very  resigned  fly  in 
the  web  of  a  most  enticing  young  spider. 

K  the  King  of  Clubs  saw  a  comely  face,  the  Queen  of 
Hearts  saw  what  observing  girls  call  a  "  good  face"; 
and  with  a  -v^^omanly  respect  for  strength,  the  manliest 
attribute  of  man,  she  admired  the  broad  shoulders  and 
six  feet  one  of  her  new  master.  This  face  Av^as  not  hand- 
some, for,  true  to  his  fatherland,  Bopp  had  an  eminent 
nose,  a  blonde  beard,  and  a  crop  of  "bonnie  browTi  hair" 
long  enough  to  have  been  gathered  into  a  ribbon,  as  in 
the  days  of  Schiller  and  Jean  Paul ;  but  Dolly  liked  it, 
for  its  strength  w^as  tempered  with  gentleness ;  patience 
and  courage  gave  it  dignity,  and  the  glance  that  met  her 
own  was  both  keen  and  kind. 

The  silk  was  wound  at  last,  —  the  coat  repaired.  Dick 
with  difficulty  concealed  the  growing  stiffness  of  his 
shoulders,  while  Dolly  turned  up  the  lamp,  which  bluntly 
hinted  bedtime,  and  Mrs.  Ward  successfully  devoured 
six  gapes  behind  her  hand,  but  was  detected  in  the 
seventh  by  Mr.  Bopp,  wiio  glanced  at  the  clock,  stopped 
in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  and,  with  a  hurried  "  goot- 
night,"  made  for  the  door  without  the  least  idea  whither 
he  was  going.  Piloted  by  Dick,  he  was  installed  in  the 
"  best  chamber,"  where  his  waking  dreams  were  enliv- 
ened by  a  great  fire,  and  his  sleeping  ones  by  an  endless 
succession  of  skeins,  each  rapturously  concluded  in  the 
style  of  Sam  Weller  when  folding  carpets  wdth  the  pretty 
maid. 


no  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 


"  I  TELL  you,  Dolly,  it  won't  do,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
have  it." 

"  Oh,  indeed ;  and  how  will  you  help  it,  you  absurd 
boy?" 

"Why,  if  you  don't  stop  it,  I'll  just  say  to  Bopp, — 
'  Look  here,  my  dear  fellow ;  this  sister  of  mine  is  a 
capital  girl,  but  she  wiU  flirt,  and '  —  " 

"  Add  it's  a  family  failing,  Dick,"  cut  in  Dolly. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  shall  say,  '  Take  care  of  your 
heart,  Bopp,  for  she  has  a  bad  habit  of  playing  battle- 
dore and  shuttlecock  with  these  articles  ;  and,  though  it 
may  be  very  good  fun  for  a  time,  it  makes  them  ache  when 
they  get  a  last  knock  and  are  left  to  lie  in  a  corner.'  " 

"  What  eloquence  !  But  you'd  never  dare  to  try  it  on 
Mr.  Bopp  ;  and  I  shouldn't  like  to  predict  what  would 
happen  to  you  if  you  did." 

"  K  you  say  'dare,'  I'll  do  it  the  first  minute  I  see 
him.  As  for  consequences,  I  don't  care  that  for  'em  ;  '* 
and  Dick  snapped  his  fingers  with  an  aspect  of  much 
disdain.  But  something  in  his  sister's  face  suggested  the 
wisdom  of  moderation,  and  moved  him  to  say,  less  like  a 
lord  of  creation,  and  more  like  a  brother  who  privately 
adored  his  sister,  but  of  course  was  not  going  to  acknowl- 
edge such  a  weakness,  — r- 

"  Well,  but  soberly,  now,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  plague 
Bopp  ;  for  it's  evident  to  me  that  he  is  hit ;  and  from  the 
way  you've  gone  on  these  two  months,  what  else  was  to 
be  expected?  Now,  as  the  head  of  the  family,  —  you 
needn't  laugh,  for  I  am,  —  I  think  I  ought  to  interfere  ; 
and  so  I  put  it  to  you,  —  do  you  like  him,  and  will  you 
have  him  ?  or  are  you  merely  amusing  yourself,  as  you 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    Ill 

have  done  ever  since  you  were  out  of  pinafores  ?  If  you 
like  him,  all  serene.  I'd  rather  have  him  for  a  brother 
than  any  one  I  know,  for  he's  a  regular  trump,  though  he 
is  poor ;  but  if  you  don't,  I  won't  have  the  dear  old  fel- 
low floored  just  because  you  like  to  see  it  done." 

It  may  here  be  remarked  that  Dolly  quite  glowed  to  hear 
her  brother  praise  Mr.  Bopp,  and  that  she  endorsed  every 
word  with  mental  additions  of  double  warmth ;  but  Dick 
had  begun  all  wrong,  and,  manlike,  demanded  her  con- 
fidence before  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  own  she  had 
any  to  bestow ;  therefore  nothing  came  of  it  but  vexa- 
tion of  spirit ;  for  it  is  a  weU-knowTi  fact  that,  on  some 
subjects,  if  boys  will  tease  girls  will  fib,  and  both  main- 
tain that  it  is  right.  So  Dolly  whetted  her  feminine 
weapon,  and  assumed  a  lofty  superiority. 

"Dear  me  !  Avhat  a  sudden  spasm  of  virtue  ;  and  why, 
if  it  is  such  a  sin,  has  not  the  '  head  of  the  house '  taken 
his  sister  to  task  before,  instead  of  indulging  in  a  like 
degeneracy,  and  causing  several  interesting  persons  to 
tear  their  hair,  and  bewail  his  forgetfulness,  when  they 
ought  to  have  blessed  their  stars  he  was  out  of  the  way?" 

Dick  snow-balled  a  dozing  crow  and  looked  nettled  ;  for 
he  had  attained  that  age  when  "  Tom  BrowTi  at  Oxford  " 
was  the  book  of  books,  the  twelfth  chapter  being  the 
favorite,  and  five  young  ladies  having  already  been 
endowed  with  the  significant  heliotrope  flower,  —  all  of 
which  facts  Dolly  had  skilfully  brought  to  mind,  as  a 
return-shot  for  his  somewhat  personal  remarks. 

"  Bah !  they  were  only  girls,  and  it  don't  amount  to 
anything  among  us  young  folks  ;  but  Bopp  is  a  grown 
man,  and  you  ought  to  respect  him  too  much  to  play 
such  pranks  with  him.     Besides,   he's  a  German,  and 


112  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

more  tender-hearted  than  we  rough  Yankees,  as  any  one 
can  see  by  the  way  he  acts  when  you  snub  hmi.  lie  is 
proud,  too,  for  all  his  meekness,  and  waits  till  he's  sure 
you  like  him  before  he  says  anything  ;  and  he'll  need  the 
patience  of  a  family  of  Jobs  at  the  rate  you're  going  on, 
—  a  honey-pot  one  day  and  a  pickle-jar  the  next.  Do 
make  up  your  mind,  and  say  yes  or  no,  right  off,  Dolly." 

"  Would  you  have  me  meet  him  at  the  door  with  a 
meek  courtesy,  and  say,  '  Oh,  if  you  please,  I'm  ready  to 
say.  Yes,  thank  you,  if  you'll  be  good  enough  to  say, 
WiUyou'?" 

"  Don't  be  a  goose,  child  ;  you  know  I  mean  nothing 
of  the  kind ;  only  you  girls  never  will  do  anything 
straight  ahead  if  you  can  dodge  and  fuss  and  make  a 
mess  of  it.  Just  tell  me  one  thing :  Do  j-ou,  or  don't 
you,  like  old  Bopp  ?  " 

"  What  an  elegant  way  to  put  it !  Of  course  I  like 
him  w^ell  enough  as  a  leader ;  he  is  clever,  and  sort  of 
cunning,  and  I  enjoy  his  funny  ways  ;  but  what  in  the 
world  should  I  do  with  a  great  yellow-haired  laddie  who 
could  put  me  in  his  pocket,  and  yet  is  so  meek  that  I 
should  never  find  the  heart  to  hen-peck  him?  You  are 
w^elcome  to  him  ;  and  since  you  love  him  so  much,  there's 
no  need  of  my  troubhng  myself  on  his  account ;  for  with 
you  for  a  friend,  he  can  have  no  earthly  wish  ungratified." 

"  Don't  try  to  be  cutting,  Dolly,  because  you  look 
homely  when  you  do,  and  it's  a  woman's  business  to  be 
pretty  always.  All  I've  got  to  say  is,  you  will  be 
in  a  nice  state  of  mind  if  you  damage  Bopp  ;  for  every 
one  likes  him,  and  will  be  down  upon  you  for  a  heartless 
little  wretch  ;  and  I  shan't  blame  them,  I  promise  you." 

"  I  wish  the  town  wouldn't  put  its  fingers  in  other 


KING    OK    CLUBS    AND    QL'EEN    OF    HEARTS.         I  I3 

people's  pies,  and  you  may  tell  it  so,  witli  my  compli- 
ments ;  and  all  /  have  to  say  is,  tliat  you  men  have  more 
liberty  than  you  know  what  to  do  with,  and  avc  women 
haven't  enough  ;  so  it's  perfectly  fair  that  we  should  show 
you  the  worth  of  the  thing  by  taking  it  away  now  and 
then.  I  shall  do  exactly  as  I  please :  dance,  walk,  ride 
and  flirt,  whenever  and  with  whomever  I  see  fit ;  and  the 
whole  town,  with  Mr.  Dick  Ward  at  their  head,  can't 
stop  me  if  I  choose  to  go  on.  Now  then,  what  next?" 
After  which  declaration  of  independence  Dolly  folded 
her  arms  and  wheeled  about  and  faced  her  brother,  a  spir- 
ited statuette  of  Self- Will,  in  a  red  hood  and  mittens. 

Dick  sternly  asked,  — 

"  Is  that  your  firm  decision,  ma'am?" 

'•  Yes." 

''  And  you  will  not  give  up  your  nonsense  ?  " 

'^  No." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  you  don't  care  for  Bopp?" 

"  I  could  slap  him  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Very  good.    I  shall  see  that  you  don't  get  a  chance." 

"  I  wouldn't  try  a  skirmish,  for  you'll  get  beaten, 
Dick." 

"  We'll  prove  that,  ma'am." 

"  We  will,  sir." 

And  the  belligerents  loftily  paced  up  the  lawn,  with 
their  purpose  so  well  expressed  by  outward  signs  that 
Mrs.  Ward  knew,  by  the  cock  of  Dick's  hat  and  the 
decided  tap  of  Dolly's  heels,  that  a  storm  was  brewing, 
before  they  entered  the  door. 

This  fraternal  conversation  took  place  some  two 
months  from  the  evening  of  Mr.  Bopp's  advent,  as  the 
young  folks  were  strolling  home  from  school,  which  school 
8 


114  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

must  be  briefly  alluded  to  ia  order  to  explain  the  fore- 
going remarks.  It  was  an  excellent  institution  in  all 
respects  ;  for  its  presiding  genius  stood  high  in  the  town- 
folks'  esteem,  and  might  have  served  as  an  example  to 
Dr.  Watts'  "  busy  bee,"  in  the  zeal  with  which  he  im- 
proved his  "  shining  hours,"  and  laid  up  honey  against 
the  winter,  which  many  hoped  would  be  long  in  coming. 
All  manner  of  aids  were  provided  for  sprouting  souls  and 
bodies,  diversions  innumerable,  and  the  best  society.  But, 
sad  to  relate,  in  spite  of  all  these  blessings,  the  students 
who  resorted  to  this  academy  possessed  an  Adam-and- 
Eve-like  proclivity  for  exactly  what  they  hadn't  got  and 
didn't  need ;  and,  not  contented  with  the  pleasures  pro- 
vided, must  needs  play  truant  with  that  young  scamp 
Eros,  and  turn  the  ancient  towTi  topsy-turvy  ^yith  modern 
innovations,  till  scandalized  spinsters  predicted  that  the 
very  babies  would  catch  the  fever,  refuse  their  panada  in 
jealous  gloom,  send  billets-doux  in  their  rattles,  elope  in 
wicker-carriages,  and  set  up  housekeeping  in  dolls'  houses, 
after  the  latest  fashion. 

Certain  inflammable  Southerners  introduced  the  new 
game,  and  left  such  romantic  legends  of  their  loves  behind 
them  that  their  successors  were  fired  with  an  ambition  to 
do  the  like,  and  excel  in  all  things,  from  cricket  to 
captivation. 

This  state  of  things  is  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  for 
America,  being  reno^Amed  as  a  "  fast"  nation,  has  become 
a  sort  of  hot-bed,  and  seems  to  force  humanity  into  early 
bloom.  Therefore,  past  generations  must  not  groan  over 
the  sprightly  present,  but  sit  in  the  chimney-corner  and 
see  boys  and  girls  play  the  game  which  is  too  apt  to  end 
in  a  checkmate  for  one  of  the  players.     To  many  of  the 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    I  I5 

lookers-on,  the  new  order  of  things  was  as  good  as  a 
puppet-show ;  for,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  the 
actors  performed  their  parts  heartily,  forgetting  the  audi- 
ence in  their  own  earnestness.  Bless  us  !  what  revolu- 
tions went  on  under  the  round  jackets,  and  what 
love-tokens  lay  in  the  pockets  tliereof.  What  plots  and 
counterplots  occupied  the  heads  that  wore  the  innocent- 
looking  snoods,  and  what  captives  were  taken  in  the 
many-colored  nets  that  would  come  off  and  liave  to  be 
taken  care  of.  What  romances  blossomed  like  dandelions 
along  the  road  to  school,  and  wiiat  tales  the  river  might 
have  told  if  any  one  could  have  learned  its  musical 
speech.  How  certain  gates  were  glorified  by  daily  lin- 
gerings  thereat,  and  what  tender  memories  hung  about 
dingy  desks,  old  pens,  and  books  illustrated  with  all  man- 
ner of  symbolical  designs. 

Let  those  laugh  who  will :  older  and  wiser  men  and 
women  might  have  taken  lessons  of  these  budding  heroes 
and  heroines  ;  for  here  all  w^as  honest,  sincere,  and  fresh  ; 
the  old  world  had  not  taught  them  falsehood,  self-interest, 
or  mean  ambitions.  When  they  lost  or  won,  they  frankly 
grieved  or  rejoiced,  and  wore  no  masks  except  in  play, 
and  then  got  them  oif  as  soon  as  possible.  If  blue-eyed 
Lizzie  froA\Tied,  or  went  home  with  Joe,  Ned,  with  a  wis- 
dom older  lovers  would  do  well  to  imitate,  went  in  for 
another  game  of  foot-ball,  gave  the  rejected  apple  to  little 
Sally,  and  whistled  "Glory  Hallelujah"  instead  of 
"  Annie  Laurie,"  which  was  better  than  blowing  a  rival's 
brains  out,  or  glowering  at  womankind  forever  after. 
Or,  when  Tom  put  on  Clara's  skates  three  successive 
days,  and  danced  with  her  three  successive  evenings, 
leaving  Kitty  to  freeze  her  feet  in  the  one  instance  and 


Il6  CAMP    AND    MIIESIDE    STORIES. 

fold  her  hands  iu  the  other,  bhe  just  had  a  "  good  cry," 
gave  her  mother  an  extra  kiss,  and  waited  till  the  recreant 
Tom  returned  to  his  allegiance,  finding  his  little  friend  a 
sweetheart  in  nature  as  in  name. 

Dick  and  Dolly  Avere  foremost  in  the  ranks,  and  expert 
in  all  the  new  amusements.  Dick  worshipped  at  many 
shrines,  but  most  faithfully  at  that  of  a  meek  divinity, 
Avho  returned  charming  answers  to  the  ardent  epistles 
A\'hicli  he  left  in  her  father's  garden  Avail,  Avherc,  Pyramus 
and  Thisbe-like,  they  often  chatted  through  a  chink  ;  and 
Dolly  was  seldom  seen  AA^thout  a  staff  of  aids  avIio  Avould 
have  "fought,  bled,  and  died"  for  her  as  cheerfully  as 
the  Little  Corporal's  Old  Guard,  though  she  paid  them 
only  in  words  ;  for  her  "Waterloo  had  not  yet  come. 


With  the  charming  perversity  of  her  sex  in  such 
matters,  no  sooner  had  Dolly  declared  that  she  didn't 
like  Mr.  Bopp,  than  she  began  to  discover  that  she  did  ; 
and  so  far  from  desiring  "  to  slap  him,"  a  tendency  to 
regard  him  Avith  peculiar  good-Avill  and  tenderness  devel- 
oped itself,  much  to  her  own  surprise  ;  for  with  all  her 
coquetry  and  seeming  coldness,  Dolly  had  a  right 
Avomanly  heart  of  her  oaati,  though  she  had  never 
acknoAA'ledged  the  fact  till  August  Bopp  looked  at  her 
with  so  much  love  and  longing  in  his  honest  eyes. 
Then  she  found  a  little  fear  mingling  Avith  her  regard, 
felt  a  strong  desire  to  be  respected  by  him,  discoA-ered  a 
certain  something  which  she  called  conscience,  restraining 
a  reckless  use  of  her  poAver,  and,  soon  after  her  lofty 
denial  to  Dick,  was  forced  to  oaati   that  Mr.  Bopp  had 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QUEEN    OF    HEARTS.         II7 

become  her  master  iu  the  finer  species  of  gymnastics 
that  came  in  with  Adam  and  Eve,  and  have  kept  all 
creation  turning  somersets  ever  since.  Of  course  these 
discoveries  were  unconfessed,  even  to  that  best  bosom 
irieud  Avhich  am^  of  us  can  have  ;  yet  her  mother  sus- 
pected them,  and,  Avith  much  anxiety,  saw  all,  yet  held 
her  peace,  knowing  that  her  little  daughter  would,  sooner 
or  later,  give  her  a  fuller  confidence  than  could  be  de- 
manded ;  and  remembering  the  happiest  moments  of  her 
own  happy  past,  when  an  older  Dick  wooed  another 
Dolly,  she  left  that  flower,  which  never  can  be  forced,  to 
open  at  its  own  sw^eet  will. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Bopp,  though  carrying  his  heart  upon 
his  sleeve,  believed  his  secret  buried  in  the  deepest  gloom, 
and  enjoyed  all  the  delightful  miseries  lovers  insist  upon 
making  for  themselves.  When  Dolly  was  quiet  or  absent, 
he  became  pensive,  the  lesson  dragged,  and  people  fan- 
cied they  were  getting  tired  of  the  humbug  ;  when  Dolly 
was  blithe  and  bland,  he  grew  radiant,  exercised  w-ithin 
an  inch  of  his  life  as  a  vent  for  his  emotions,  and  people 
went  home  declaring  gymnastics  to  be  the  crowning  tri- 
umph of  the  age  ;  and  when  Dolly  w^as  capricious,  Mr. 
Bopp  became  a  bewildered  weathercock,  changing  as  the 
wind  changed,  and  dire  was  the  confusion  occasioned 
thereby. 

Like  the  sage  fowl  in  the  story,  Dick  said  nothing,  but 
"  kept  up  a  terrible  thinking,'*  and,  not  having  had  expe- 
rience enough  to  know  that  when  a  woman  says  No  she 
is  very  apt  to  mean  Yes,  he  took  Dolly  at  her  word. 
Believing  it  to  be  his  duty  to  warn  "  Old  Bopp,"  he 
resolved  to  do  it  like  a  Roman  brother,  regardless  of  his 
own  feelings  or  his  sister's  w^rath,  quite  unconscious  that 


Il8  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

the  motive-power  in  the  affair  wa?  a  boyish  love  of  ruling 
the  young  person  who  ruled  every  one  else. 

Matters  stood  thus,  when  the  town  was  electrified  by 
a  general  invitation  to  the  annual  jubilee  at  JoUyboys 
Hall,  which  this  spring  flowered  into  a  masquerade,  and 
filled  the  souls  of  old  and  young  with  vi^^ions  of  splendor, 
frolic  and  fun.  Being  an  amiable  old  toAvn,  it  gave 
itself  up,  like  a  kind  grandma,  to  the  wishes  of  its  chil- 
dren, let  them  put  its  knitting  away,  disturb  its  naps,  keep 
its  hands  busy  with  vanities  of  the  flesh,  and  its  mind  in  a 
state  of  chaos  for  three  mortal  weeks.  Young  ladies  were 
obscured  by  tarlatan  fogs,  behind  which  they  concocted 
angels'  wings,  newspaper  gowns,  Minnehaha's  wampum, 
and  Cinderella's  slippers.  Inspired  but  incapabltj  boys 
undertook  designs  that  would  have  daunted  a  costumer 
of  the  first  water,  fell  into  sloughs  of  despond,  and, 
emerging,  settled  down  from  peers  and  paladins  into 
jovial  tars,  friar  waterproofs,  and  officers  in  miscellane- 
ous uniforms.  Fathers  laughed  or  grumbled  at  the  Avhole 
thing,  and  advanced  pecuniary  loans  with  good  or  ill 
grace,  as  the  case  might  be  ;  but  the  mothers,  whose 
interest  in  their  children's  pleasure  is  a  sort  of  evergreen 
that  no  snows  of  time  can  kill,  sewed  spangles  by  the 
bushel,  made  wildernesses  of  tissue-paper  blossom  as  the 
rose,  kept  tempers  sweet,  stomachs  full,  and  domestic 
machinery  working  smoothly  through  it  all,  by  that  ma- 
ternal magic  which  makes  them  the  human  providences 
of  this  naughty  world. 

"  What  shall  I  go  as?"  was  the  universal  cry.  Garrets 
were  taken  by  storm,  cherished  relics  were  teased  out  of 
old  ladies'  lavendered  chests  (happy  she  who  saw  them 
again  !),  hats  were  made  into  boots,  gowns  into  doublets, 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QUEKN    OF    HEARTS.         II9 

cloaks  into  hose,  Sunday  bonnets  despoiled  of  their 
plumage,  silken  cauliflowers  sown  broadcast  over  the 
land,  and  cocked-up  caps  erected  in  every  style  of  archi- 
tecture, ^vhile  "  Tag,  Rag,  and  Bobtail"  drove  a  smash- 
ing business,  and  everybody  knew  what  everybody  else 
was  going  to  be,  and  solemnly  vowed  they  didn't,  — 
which  transparent  falsehood  was  the  best  joke  of  the 
whole. 

Dolly  allowed  her  mates  to  believe  she  was  to  be  the 
Queen  of  Hearts,  but  privately  laid  hold  of  certain 
brocades  worn  by  a  trim  grandmother  half  a  century 
ago,  and  one  evening  burst  upon  her  brother  in  a  charm- 
ing "Little  Bo-Peep"  costume,  which,  for  the  benefit  of 
future  distressed  damsels,  may  be  described  as  a  white 
silk  skirt,  scarlet  overdress,  "  neatly  bundled  up  behind," 
as  ancient  ladies  expressed  it,  blue  hose  with  red  clocks, 
high-heeled  shoes  with  silver  buckles,  a  nosegay  in  the 
tucker,  and  a  fly-way  hat  perched  on  the  top  of  black 
curls,  which  gave  additional  archness  to  Dolly's  face  as 
she  entered,  singing  that  famous  ditty. 

Dick  surveyed  her  with  approval,  turning  her  about 
like  a  lay  figure,  and  expressing  his  fraternal  opinion 
that  she  v/as  "  the  sauciest  little  turnout  he  ever  saw," 
and  then  Avet-blanketed  the  remark  by  adding,  "  Of 
course  you  don't  call  it  a  disguise,  do  you?  and  don't 
flatter  yourself  that  you  won't  be  known  ;  for  Dolly 
AVard  is  as  plainly  written  in  every  curl,  bow,  and 
gimcrack,  as  if  you  wore  a  label  on  your  back." 

'•  Then  I  shan't  wear  it "  ;  and  off"  went  the  hat  at  one 
fell  blow,  as  Dolly  threw  her  crook  in  one  corner,  her 
posy  in  another,  and  sat  down  an  image  of  despair. 

'•  Now  don't  be  a  goose,  and  rip  everything  to  bits ; 


I20  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

just  wear  a  domino  over  all,  as  Fan  is  going  to,  and 
then,  Avlien  you've  had  fun  enough,  take  it  off  and  do  the 
pretty.  It  will  make  two  rigs,  you  see,  and  bother  the 
boys  to  your  heart's  content." 

"  Dick,  I  insist  upon  kissing  you  for  that  brilliant  sug- 
gestion ;  and  then  you  may  run  and  get  me  eight  yards 
of  cambric,  just  the  color  of  Fan's ;  but  if  you  tell  any 
one,  I'll  keep  her  from  dancing  with  you  the  whole 
evening  ;  "  with  which  bribe  and  threat  Dolly  embraced 
her  brother,  and  shut  the  door  in  his  face,  while  he, 
putting  himself  in  good  humor  by  imagining  she  was 
somebody  else,  departed  on  his  muddy  mission. 

If  the  ghosts  of  the  fii'st  settlers  had  taken  their  walks 
abroad  on  the  eventful  Friday  night,  they  would  have 
held  up  their  shadowy  hands  at  the  scenes  going  on  under 
their  venerable  noses  ;  for  strange  figures  flitted  through 
the  quiet  streets,  and,  instead  of  decorous  slumber,  ther^ 
was  decidedly  — 

"A  sound  of  revelry  by  night." 

Spurs  clanked  and  swords  rattled  over  the  frosty 
ground,  as  if  the  British  were  about  to  make  another 
flying  call ;  hooded  monks  and  nuns  paced  along,  on 
carnal  thoughts  intent ;  ancient  ladies  and  bewigged 
gentlemen  seemed  hurrying  to  enjoy  a  social  cup  of  tea, 
and  groan  over  the  tax ;  barrels  staggered  and  stuck 
through  narrow  ways,  as  if  temperance  were  still  among 
the  lost  arts,  while  bears,  apes,  imps  and  elves  pattered 
or  sparkled  by,  as  if  a  second  Walpurgis  Night  had 
come,  and  all  were  bound  for  Blocksberg. 

"  Hooray  for  the  rooster ! "  shouted  Young  Ireland, 
encamped  on  the  sidewalk  to  see  the  show,  as  Mephis- 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QITEEN    OF    HEARTS.        121 

tophcles'  red  cock's  feather  skimmed  up  tlie  stairs,  and 
he  left  a  pink  domino  at  the  hidies'  dressing-room  door, 
Avilh  the  brief  warning,  "  Now  cut  your  own  capers  and 
leave  me  to  mine,"  adding,  as  he  paused  a  moment  at 
the  great  door,  — 

"  By  Jove  !  isn't  it  a  jolly  sight,  though?  " 
And  so  it  was  ;   for  a  mammoth  boot  stood  sentinel  at 
the  entrance  ;  a  Bedouin  Arab  leaned  on  his  spear  in  one 
corner,  looking  as  if  ready  to  say,  — 

"  Fly  to  the  desert,  fly  with  me," 

to  the  pretty  Jewess  on  his  arm  ;  a  stately  Hamlet,  with 
irreproachable  legs,  settled  his  plumage  in  another,  still 
undecided  to  which  Ophelia  he  would  first  address  — 

"  The  lioney  of  liis  music  vows." 

Bluff  King  Hal's  representative  was  waltzing  in  a  way 
that  would  have  filled  that  stout  potentate  with  respectful 
admiration,  while  Queen  Katherine  flirted  with  a  Fire 
Zouave.  Alcibiades  whisked  Mother  Goose  about  the 
room  till  the  old  lady's  conical  hat  tottered  on  her  head, 
and  the  Union  held  fast  to  a  very  little  Mac.  Flocks  of 
friars,  black,  white  and  gray,  pervaded  the  hall,  with 
flocks  of  ballet-girls,  intended  to  represent  peasants,  but 
failing  for  lack  of  drapery  ;  morning  and  evening  stars 
rose  or  set,  as  partners  willed ;  lively  red  demons 
harassed  meek  nuns,  and  knights  of  the  Leopard,  the 
Lion,  or  Griffin,  flashed  by,  looking  heroically  uncom- 
fortable in  their  gilded  cages ;  court  ladies  promenaded 
with  Jack-tars,  and  dukes  danced  Avith  dairy-maids,  while 
Brother  Jonathan  whittled.  Aunt  Dinah  jabbered,  Ino-o- 


122  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

mar  flourished  his  club,  and  every  one  felt  -warmly  enthu- 
siastic and  vigorously  jolly. 

"  Ach  himmel !  Das  ist  wunder  sclion  !  "  murmured  a 
tall,  gray  monk,  looking  in,  and  quite  unconscious  that 
he  spoke  aloud. 

"  Hullo,  Bopp  !  I  thought  you  -weren't  coming,"  cried 
Mephistopheles  in  an  emphatic  whisper. 

'•  Ah,  I  guess  you  !  yes,  you  are  -well  done.  I  should 
like  to  be  a  Faust  for  you,  but  I  haf  no  time,  do  purse 
for  a  dress,  so  I  throw  this  on,  and  run  up  for  a  hour 
or  two.  Where  is,  —  who  is  all  these  people?  Do  you 
know  them  ?  " 

"  The  one  with  the  Pope,  Fra  Diavolo,  the  telegraph, 
and  two  knights  asking  her  to  dance,  is  Dolly,  if  that's 
what  you  Avant  to  know.  Go  in  and  keep  it  up,  Bopp, 
-while  you  can  ;  I  am  off  for  Fan  ;  "  and  Mephistopheles 
departed  over  the  banisters  with  a  -weird  agility  that  de- 
lighted the  beholders  ;  Avhile  the  gray  friar  stole  into  a 
corner  and  watched  the  pink  domino  for  half  an  hour,  at 
the  end  of  which  time  his  regards  -were  somewhat  cou- 
fused  by  discovering  that  there  were  two  pink  damsels  so 
like  that  he  could  not  tell  which  was  the  one  pointed  out 
by  Dick,  and  which  the  new-comer. 

'•  She  thinks  I  vrill  not  know  her,  but  I  shall  go  now 
and  find  out  for  myself;"  and,  starting  into  sudden  ac- 
tivity, the  gray  brother  strode  up  to  the  nearest  pink 
lady,  bowed,  and  offered  his  arm.  With  a  haughty  little 
gesture  of  denial  to  several  others,  she  accepted  it,  and 
they  joined  the  circle  of  many-colored  promenaders  that 
eddied  round  the  hall.  As  they  went,  Mr.  Bopp  scruti- 
nized  his    companion,    but   saw   only   a    slender  figure 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    1 23 

shrouded  from  head  to  foot,  and  the  tip  of  a  white  glove 
resting  on  his  arm. 

"  I  will  speak ;  then  her  voice  will  betray  her,"  he 
thought,  forgetting  that  his  own  was  uudisguisable. 

*'  Madame,  permit  me  that  I  fan  you,  it  is  so  greatly 
warm." 

A  fan  was  surrendered  Avitli  a  bow,  and  the  masked 
face  turned  fully  towards  his  own,  while  the  hood  trem- 
bled as  if  its  wearer  laughed  silently. 

•'Ah,  it  is  you,  —  I  knoAv  the  eyes,  the  step,  the 
laugh.  Miss  Dolly,  did  you  think  you  could  hide  from 
me?" 

"  I  did  not  wish  to,"  was  the  wdiispered  answer. 

"  Did  you  think  I  would  come?  " 

'•  I  hoped  so." 

"  Then  you  are  not  displease  Avith  me?" 

"  No  ;  I.  am  very  glad  ;  I  wanted  you." 

The  pink  head  drooped  a  little  nearer,  and  another 
white  glove  went  to  meet  its  mate  upon  his  arm  with  a 
pretty,  confiding  gesture.  Mr.  Bopp  instantly  fell  into  a 
state  of  bliss,  —  the  lights,  music,  gay  surroundings, 
and,  more  than  all,  this  unwonted  demonstration,  put  the 
croAATiing  glory  to  the  moment ;  and,  fired  with  the  hopeful 
omen,  he  allowed  his  love  to  silence  his  prudence,  and 
lead  him  to  do,  then  and  there,  the  very  thing  he  had 
often  resolved  never  to  do  at  all. 

"Ah,  Miss  Dolly,  if  you  knew  how  much,  how  very 
much  you  haf  enlarged  my  happiness,  and  made  this 
efeuing  shine  for  me,  you  would  more  often  be  a  little 
friendly,  for  this  winter  has  been  all  summer  to  me, 
since  I  kncAV  you  and  your  kind  home,  and  now  I  haf  no 
sorrow  but  that  after  the  next  lesson  I  come  no  more 


124  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES* 

unless  you  gif  me  leaf.  See  now  I  must  say  this  even 
here,  when  so  much  people  are  about  us,  because  I  can- 
not stop  it ;  and  you  will  f'orgif  me  that  I  cannot  Avait 
any  longer." 

"  Mr.  Bopp,  please  don't,  please  stop !  "  began  the 
pink  domino  in  a  hurried  whisper.  But  Mr.  Bopp  was 
not  to  be  stopped.  He  had  dammed  up  the  stream  so 
long,  that  now  it  rushed  on  fast,  full  and  uncontrollable  ; 
for,  leading  her  into  one  of  the  curtained  recesses  near 
by,  he  sat  down  beside  her,  and,  still  plying  the  fan, 
went  on  impetuously,  — 

"  I  feel  to  say  that  I  lofe  you,  and  tho'  I  try  to  kill  it, 
my  lofe  will  not  die,  because  it  is  more  strong  than  my 
will,  more  dear  than  my  pride,  for  I  haf  much,  and  I  do 
not  ask  you  to  be  meine  Frau  till  I  can  gif  you  more 
than  my  heart  and  my  poor  name.  But  hear  now  :  I 
will  work,  and  save,  and  Avait  a  many  years  if  at  the  end 
you  will  take  all  I  haf  and  say,  '  August,  I  lofe  you.' 
Do  not  laugh  at  me  because  I  say  this  in  such  poor 
words ;  you  are  my  heart's  dearest,  and  I  must  tell  it  or 
never  come  again.  Speak  to  me  one  kind  yes,  and  I  will 
thank  Gott  for  so  much  joy." 

The  pink  domino  had  listened  to  this  rapid  speech 
with  averted  head,  and,  when  it  ended,  started  up,  saying 
eagerly,  "You  are  mistaken,  sir,  I  am  not  Dolly;"  but 
as  she  spoke  her  words  were  belied,  for  the  hasty  move- 
ment partially  displaced  her  mask,  and  Mr.  Bopp  saw 
Dolly's  eyes,  a  lock  of  dark  hair,  and  a  pair  of  burning 
cheeks,  before  the  screen  was  readjusted.  With  re- 
doubled earnestness  he  held  her  back,  whispering,  — 

"  Do  not  go  mitout  the  little  word,  Yes,  or  No  ;  it  is 
not  much  to  say." 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    1 25 

*'  Well  then,  No  !  " 

"  You  mean  it?  Dolly  !  truly  mean  it?  " 

"  Yes,  let  me  go  at  once,  sir." 

Mr.  Bopp  stood  up,  saying,  slowly,  —  "  Yes,  go  now  ; 
they  told  me  you  had  no  heart ;  I  beliefe  it,  and  thank 
you  for  that  No  ;  "  then  bowed,  and  walked  straight  out 
of  the  hall,  while  the  pink  domino  broke  into  a  fit  of 
laughter,  saying  to  herself,  — 

"  I've  done  it !  I've  done  it !  but  what  a  piece  of  work 
there'll  be  to-morrow." 


"  Dick,  who  was  that  tall  creature  Fan  was  parading 
with  last  night?  No  one  knqw,  and  he  vanished  before 
the  masks  were  taken  off,"  asked  Dolly,  as  she  and  her 
brother  lounged  in  opposite  corners  of  the  sofa  the 
morning  after  the  masquerade,  "  talking  it  over." 

"  That  was  old  Bopp,  Mrs.  Peep." 

"  Gracious  me  !  why,  he  said  he  wasn't  coming." 

"  People  sometimes  say  what  they  don't  mean,  as  you 
may  have  discovered." 

"  But  why  didn't  he  come  and  speak  to  a  body, 
Dick?" 

"Better  employed,  I  suppose." 

"  Now  don't  be  cross,  dear,  but  tell  me  all  about  it, 
for  I  don't  understand  how  you  allowed  him  to  monopo- 
lize Fan  so." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother,  I'm  sleepy." 

"No  you're  not;  you  look  wicked;  I  know  you've 
been  in  mischief,  and  I  insist  upon  hearing  all  about  it, 
so  come  and  tell  this  instant." 


136  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Dolly  proceeded  to  enforce  her  command  by  pulling 
away  his  pillow  and  dragging  her  brother  into  a  sitting 
posture,  in  spite  of  his  laughing  resistance  and  evident 
desire  to  exhaust  her  patience  ;  for  Dick  excelled  in  teas- 
ing, and  kept  his  sister  in  a  fidget  from  morning  till 
night,  with  occasional  fits  of  penitence  and  petting  which 
lasted  till  next  time.  Therefore,  though  dying  to  tell,  he 
was  undecided  as  to  the  best  method  of  executing  that 
task  in  the  manner  most  aggravating  to  his  listener  and 
most  agreeable  to  himself,  and  sat  regarding  her  with 
twinkling  eyes,  and  his  curly  pate  in  a  high  state  of 
rumple,  trying  to  appear  innocently  meek,  but  failing 
signally. 

"  Now,  then,  begin,"  commanded  Dolly. 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  take  my  head  ofi"  till  I'm  done, 
I'll  tell  you  the  best  joke  of  the  season.  Are  you  sure 
the  pink  domino  with  Bopp  wasn't  yourself,  —  for  she 
looked  and  acted  very  like  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  am.  I  didn't  even  know  he  Avas  there, 
and  think  it  very  rude  and  ungentlemanly  in  him  not  to 
come  and  speak  to  me.  You  know  it  was  Fan,  so  do  go 
on." 

"But  it  wasn't,  for  she  changed  her  mind  and  wore  a 
black  domino  ;  I  saw  her  put  it  on  myself.  Her  Cousin 
Jack  came  unexpectedly,  and  she  thought  if  she  altered 
her  dress  and  went  with  him,  you  wouldn't  know  her." 

"  Who  could  it  have  been,  Dick?  " 

"  That's  the  mystery,  for,  do  you  know,  Bopp  proposed 
to  her." 

"  He  didn't !  "  and  Dolly  flew  up  with  a  startled  look 
that,  to  adopt  a  phrase  from  his  own  vocabulary,  was 
"  nuts  "  to  her  brother. 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  qUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    1 27 

*'  Yes  he  did  ;   I  heard  him." 

"  Wheu,  where,  and  how?  " 

'*  In  one  of  those  flirtation  boxes  ;  they  dropped  the 
curtain,  but  I  heard  him  do  it,  on  my  honor  I  did." 

"  Persons  of  honor  don't  listen  at  curtains  and  key- 
holes.    What  did  they  say?" 

"Oh,  if  it  wasn't  honorable  to  listen,  it  isn't  to  hear ; 
so  I  won't  tell,  though  I  could  not  help  knowing  it." 

'^  Mercy  !  don't  stop  now,  or  I  shall  die  with  curiosity. 
I  dare  say  I  should  have  done  the  same  ;  no  one  minds 
at  such  a  place,  you  know.  But  I  don't  see  the  joke 
yet,"  said  Dolly  dismally. 

"  I  do,"  and  Dick  went  off  into  a  shout. 

"  You  idiotic  boy,  take  that  pillow  out  of  your  mouth, 
and  tell  me  the  whole  thing,  —  what  he  said,  what  she 
said,  and  what  they  both  did.  It  was  all  fun,  of  course, 
but  I'd  like  to  hear  about  it." 

"  It  may  have  been  fun  on  her  part,  but  it  was  solemn 
earnest  on  his,  for  he  went  it  strong  I  assure  you.  I'd 
no  idea  the  old  fellow  was  so  sly,  for  he  appeared 
smashed  with  you,  you  know",  and  there  he  was  finishing 
up  with  this  unknown  lady.  I  wish  you  could  have 
heard  him  go  on,  with  tears  in  his  eyes " 

'•  How  do  you  know,  if  you  didn't  see  him?" 

"Oh,  well,  that's  only  a  figure  of  speech;  I  thought 
so  from  his  voice.  He  w^as  ever  so  tender,  and  took  to 
Dutch  when  English  was  too  cool  for  him.  It  was 
really  touching,  for  I  never  heard  a  fellow  do  it  before  ; 
and,  upon  my  word,  I  should  think  it  was  rather  a  tough 
job  to  say  that  sort  of  thing  to  a  pretty  woman,  mask  or 
no  mask." 

"What   did   she   say?"   asked   Dolly,  with  her  hands 


128  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

pressed  tight  together,  and  a  curious  little  quiver  of  the 
lips. 

"  She  said  No,  as  short  as  pie-crust ;  and  when  he 
rushed  out  with  his  heart  broken  all  to  bits,  apparently, 
she  just  burst  out  laughing,  and  went  and  polked  at  a^ 
two-forty  pace  for  half  an  hour." 

Dora  unclasped  her  hands,  took  a  long  breath,  and 
cried  out,  — 

"  She  was  a  wicked,  heartless  hussy !  and  if  I  kuow\ 
her,  I'll  never  speak  to  her  again  ;  for  if  he  was  really^ 
in  earnest,  she  ought  to  be  killed  for  laughing  at  him."      i 

"  So  ought  you,  then,  for  making  fun  of  poor  Fisheri] 
when  he  went  down  on  his  knees  behind  the  berry  bushes  j 
last  summer.  He  was  earnest  enough,  for  he  looked  as' 
blue  as  his  berries  when  he  got  home.  Your  theory  is 
all  right,  ma'am,  but  your  practice  is  all  bosh." 

"  Hold  your  tongue  about  that  silly  thing.  Boys  in 
college  think  they  know  everything,  can  do  everything, 
have  everything,  and  only  need  beckon,  and  all  woman- 1 
kind  will  come  and  adore.  It  made  a  man  of  him,  and  \ 
he'll  thank  me  for  taking  the  sentimental  nonsense  and  ^ 
conceit  out  of  him.  You  will  need  just  such  a  lesson  at 
the  rate  you  go  on,  and  I  hope  Fan  Avill  give  it  to  you.' 

"When  the  lecture  is  over,  I'll  go  on  with  the  joke,  if: 
you  want  to  know  it." 

"Isn't  this  all?" 

"  Oh,  bless  you,  no  !  the  cream  of  it  is  to  come. 
What  would  you  give  to  know  who  the  lady  was  ?  " 

"  Five  dollars,  down,  this  minute." 

"  Very  good,  hand  'em  over,  and  I'll  tell  you." 

"Truly,  Dick?" 

"  Yes,  and  prove  it." 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    Ql'EEN    OF    HEARTS.         I29 

Dolly  produced  her  purse,  and,  bill  in  hand,  sat  wait- 
Qo-  for  the  disclosure.  Dick  rose  with  a  melo-dramatic 
>o\v,  — 

''  Lo,  it  was  I." 

"That's  a  gi'cat  fib,  for  I  saw  you  flying  about  the 
vhole  evening." 

"You  saw  my  dress,  but  I  was  not  in  it." 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  who  did  I  keep  gohig  to,  then?  and  what 
lid  I  do  to  make  a  fool  of  myself,  I  wonder?  " 

Purse  and  bill  dropped  out  of  Dolly's  hand,  and  she 
coked  at  her  brother  with  a  distracted  expression  of 
jountenance.     Dick  rubbed  his  hands  and  chuckled. 

"  Here's  a  jolly  state  of  things  I  Now  I'll  tell  you  the 
w'hole  story.  I  never  thought  of  doing  it  till  I  saw  Bopp 
md  told  him  who  you  were  ;  but  on  my  way  for  Fan  I 
wondered  if  he'd  get  puzzled  between  you  two  ;  and  then 
a  o-rand  idea  popped  into  my  head  to  puzzle  him  myself, 
for  I  can  take  you  off  to  the  life.  Fan  didn't  want  me 
to,  but  I  made  her,  so  she  lent  me  hoops,  and  gOT^Ti,  and 
the  pink  domino,  and  if  ever  I  thanked  my  stars  I  wasn't 
Itall,  I  did  then,  for  the  things  fitted  capitally  as  to  length, 
though  I  kept  splitting  something  down  the  back,  and  scat- 
tering hooks  and  eyes  in  all  directions.  I  wish  you 
\coiM  have  heard  Jack  roar  while  they  rigged  me.  He 
shad  no  dress,  so  I  lent  him  mine,  till  just  before  the 
masks  were  tak«^n  off,  when  we  cut  home  and  changed. 
He  told  me  how  you  kept  running  to  him  to  tie  up  your 
slippers,  find  your  fan,  and  tell  him  funny  things,  think- 
?ing  it  was  me.  I  never  enjoyed  anything  so  much  in  my 
life." 

I     "Go  on,"  said  Dolly,  in  a  breathless  sort  of  voice,  and 
the  deluded  boy  obeyed. 
[  9 


130  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  I  knew  Bopp,  and  hovered  near  till  he  came  to  find 
out  who  I  was.  I  took  you  off  in  style,  and  it  deceived 
him,  for  I'm  only  an  inch  or  two  taller  than  you,  and 
kept  my  head  do^vn  in  the  lackadaisical  way  you  girls 
do  ;  I  whispered,  so  my  voice  didn't  betray  me  ;  and 
was  very  clinging,  and  sweet,  and  fluttery,  and  that 
blessed  old  goose  was  sure  it  was  you.  I  thought  it  was 
all  over  once,  for  when  he  came  the  heavy  in  the  recess 
I  got  a  bit  flustered,  he  was  so  serious  about  it,  my 
mask  slipped,  but  I  caught  it,  so  he  only  saw  my  eyes 
and  forehead,  which  are  just  like  yours,  and  that  finished 
him,  for  I've  no  doubt  I  looked  as  red  and  silly  as  you 
would  have  done  in  a  like  fix." 

"Why  did  you  say  No?"  and  Dolly  looked  as  stern 
as  fate. 

"What  else  should  I  say?  You  told  me  you  wouldn't 
have  him,  and  I  thought  it  would  save  you  the  bother  of 
saying  it,  and  him  the  pain  of  asking  twice.  I  told  him 
some  time  ago  that  you  were  a  born  flirt ;  he  said  he 
knew  it ;  so  I  was  surprised  to  hear  him  go  on  at  such  a 
rate,  but  supposed  that  I  was  too  amiable,  and  that 
misled  him.  Poor  old  Bopp,  I  kept  thinking  of  him  all 
night,  as  he  looked  when  he  said,  '  They  told  me  you  had 
no  heart,  now  I  believe  it,  and  I  thank  you  for  that  No.' 
It  was  rather  a  hard  joke  for  him,  but  it's  over  now,  and 
he  Avon't  have  to  do  it  again.  You  said  I  wouldn't  dare 
tell  him  about  you  ;  didn't  I?  and  haven't  I  won  the " 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  went  spinning  dizzily  through 
Dick's  head,  as  a  sudden  tingling  sensation  pervaded  his 
left  ear,  followed  by  a  similar  smart  in  the  right ;  and, 
for  a  moment,  chaos  seemed  to  have  come  again.  What- 
ever Dolly  did  was  thoroughly  done :  when  she  danced, 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QUEEN    OF    HEARTS.         I3I 

the  soles  of  her  shoes  attested  the  fact ;  wheu  she  flh'ted, 
it  was  warm  work  while  it  lasted  ;  aud  when  she  was 
angry,  it  thundered,  lightened,  and  blew  great  guns  till 
the  shower  came,  and  the  whole  affair  ended  in  a  rain- 
bow. Therefore,  being  outwitted,  disappointed,  mor- 
tified and  hurt,  her  first  impulse  was  to  find  a  vent  for 
these  conflicting  emotions ;  and  possessing  skilful  hands, 
she  left  them  to  avenge  the  wrong  done  her  heart,  which 
they  did  so  faitlifully,  that  if  ever  a  young  gentleman's 
ears  were  vigorously  and  completely  boxed,  Dick  was 
that  young  individual.  As  the  thunder-clap  ceased,  the 
gale  began,  and  blew  steadily  for  several  minutes. 

"You  think  it  a  joke,  do  you?  I  tell  you  it's  a 
wicked,  cruel  thing ;  you've  told  a  lie  ;  you've  broken 
August's  heart,  and  made  me  so  angry  that  I'll  never 
forgive  you  as  long  as  I  live.  What  do  you  know  about 
my  feelings?  and  how  dare  you  take  it  upon  yourself  to 
answer  for  me?  You  think  because  we  are  nearly  the 
same  age  that  I  am  no  older  than  you,  but  you're  mis- 
taken, for  a  boy  of  eighteen  is  a  boy,  a  girl  of  seventeen 
is  often  a  woman,  with  a  Avoman's  hopes  and  plans  ;  you 
don't  understand  this  any  more  than  you  do  August's  love 
for  me,  which  you  listened  to  and  laughed  at.  I  said  I 
didn't  like  him,  and  I  didn't  find  out  till  afterward  that  I 
did ;  then  I  was  afraid  to  tell  you,  lest  you'd  twit  me 
with  it.  But  now  I  care  for  no  one,  and  I  say  I  do  like 
him,  —  yes,  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart,  and  soul,  and 
might,  and  I'd  die  this  minute  if  I  could  undo  the  harm 
you've  done,  and  see  him  happy !  I  know  I've  been 
selfish,  vain,  and  thoughtless,  but  I  am  not  now ;  I  hoped 
he'd  love  me,  hoped  he'd  see  I  cared  for  him,  that  I'd 
done  trifling,   and  didn't  mind  if  he  was  poor,  for  I'd 


132  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

enough  for  both  ;  that  I  longed  to  make  his  life  pleasant 
after  all  his  troubles  ;  that  I'd  send  for  the  little  sister  he 
loves  so  well,  and  never  let  him  suffer  any  more  ;  for  he 
is  so  good,  so  patient,  so  generous,  and  dear  to  me,  I 
cannot  do  enough  for  him.  Now  it's  all  spoilt ;  now  I 
can  never  tell  him  this,  never  comfort  him  in  any  way, 
never  be  happy  again  all  my  life,  and  yow  have  done  it !" 

As  Dolly  stood  before  her  brother,  pouring  out  her 
words  with  glittering  eyes,  impetuous  voice,  and  face 
pale  with  passionate  emotion,  he  was  scared ;  for,  as  his 
scattered  wits  returned  to  him,  he  felt  that  he  had  been 
playing  with  edge-tools,  and  had  cut  and  slashed  in  rather 
a  promiscuous  manner.  Dazed  and  dizzy,  he  sat  staring 
at  the  excited  figure  before  him,  forgetting  the  indignity 
he  had  received,  the  mistake  he  had  made,  the  damage 
he  had  done,  in  simple  w^onder  at  the  revolutions  going 
on  under  his  astonished  eyes.  When  Dolly  stopped  for 
breath,  he  muttered  with  a  contrite  look,  — 

"I'm  very  sorry,  —  it  was  only  fun  ;  and  I  thought  it 
w^ould  help  you  both,  for  how  the  deuce  should  I  know 
you  liked  the  man  when  you  said  you  hated  him  ?  " 

"  I  never  said  that,  and  if  I'd  wanted  advice  I  should 
have  gone  to  mother.  You  men  go  blundering  off  with 
l;uilf  an  idea  in  your  heads,  and  never  see  your  stupidity 
till  you  have  made  a  mess  that  can't  be  mended ;  we 
Avomen  don't  work  so,  but  save  people's  feelings,  and  are 
called  hypocrites  for  our  pains.  I  never  meant  to  tell 
you,  but  I  w^ill  now,  to  show  you  how  I've  been  serving 
you,  wiiile  you've  been  harming  me  :  every  one  of  those 
notes  from  Fan  w^hich  you  admire  so  much,  answer  so 
carefully,  and  wear  out  in  your  pocket,  though  copied  by 
her,  were  written  by  me." 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    Q_UEEN    OF    HEARTS.         1 33 

"  The  dickins  they  were  !  "  Up  flew  Dick,  and  clap- 
ping his  hand  on  the  left-breast  pocket,  out  came  a  dozen 
pink  notes  tied  up  with  a  blue  ribbon,  and  much  the 
worse  for  wear.  He  hastily  turned  them  over  as  Dolly 
went  on. 

"  Yes,  I  did  it,  for  she  didn't  know  how  to  answer 
your  notes,  and  came  to  me.  I  didn't  laugh  at  them,  or 
make  fun  of  her,  but  helped  her  silly  little  wits,  and  made 
you  a  happy  boy  for  three  months,  though  you  teased  me 
day  and  night,  for  I  loved  you,  and  hadn't  the  heart  to 
spoil  your  pleasure." 

"  You've  done  it  now  with  a  vengeance,  and  you're  a 
pair  of  deceitful  minxes.  I've  paid  you  off.  I'll  give 
Fan  one  more  note  that  will  keep  her  eyes  red  for  a 
month ;  and  I'll  never  love  or  trust  a  girl  again  as  long 
as  I  live,  — never  !  never  !  " 

Red  with  wrath,  Dick  threw  the  treasured  packet  into 
the  fire,  punched  it  well  down  among  the  coals,  flung 
away  the  poker,  and  turned  about  with  a  look  and  ges- 
ture which  would  have  been  very  comical  if  they  had  not 
been  decidedly  pathetic,  for,  in  spite  of  his  years,  a  very 
tender  heart  beat  under  the  blue  jacket,  and  it  was  griev- 
ously wounded  at  the  perfidy  of  the  gentle  little  divinity 
whom  he  worshipped  with  daily  increasing  ardor.  His 
eyes  filled,  but  he  winked  resolutely ;  his  lips  trembled, 
but  he  bit  them  hard ;  his  hands  doubled  themselves  up, 
but  he  remembered  his  adversary  was  a  woman  ;  and,  as 
a  last  effort  to  preserve  his  masculine  dignity,  he  began 
to  whistle. 

As  if  the  inconsistencies  of  womankind  were  to  be 
sho^^^l  him  as  rapidly  as  possible,  at  this  moment  the 
shower  came  on  ;  for,  taking  him  tenderly  about  the  neck, 


134  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Dolly  fell  to  weeping  so  infectiously,  that,  after  standing 
rigidly  erect  till  a  great  tear  dropped  off  the  end  of  his 
nose,  Dick  gave  in,  and  laying  his  head  on  Dolly's 
shoulder,  the  brother  and  sister  quenched  their  anger, 
washed  away  their  malice,  and  soothed  their  sorrow  by 
one  of  those  natural  processes  so  kindly  provided  for 
poor  humanity,  and  so  often  despised  as  a  weakness  when 
it  might  prove  a  better  strength  than  any  pride. 


Dick  cleared  up  first,  with  no  sign  of  the  tempest  but 
a  slight  mist  through  which  his  native  sunshine  glim- 
mered pensively. 

"  Don't,  dear,  don't  cry  so  ;  it  will  make  you  sick,  and 
w^on't  do  any  good,  for  things  will  come  right,  or  I'll 
make  'em,  and  we'll  be  comfortable  all  round." 

"  No,  we  never  can  be  as  we  were,  and  it's  all  my 
fault.  I've  betrayed  Fan's  confidence,  I've  spoiled  your 
little  romance,  I've  been  a  thoughtless,  wicked  girl,  I've 
lost  August ;  and,  oh,  dear  me,  I  wish  I  was  dead ! " 
with  which  funereal  climax  Dolly  cried  despairingly. 

''  Oh,  come  now,  don't  be  dismal,  and  blame  yourself 
for  every  trouble  under  the  sun.  Sit  down  and  talk  it 
over,  and  see  what  can  be  done.  Poor  old  girl,  I  forgive 
you  the  notes,  and  say  I  was  wrong  to  meddle  with  Bopp. 
I  got  you  into  the  scrape,  and  I'll  get  you  out  if  the  sky 
don't  fall,  or  Bopp  blow  his  brains  out,  like  a  second 
Werther,  before  to-morrow." 

Dick  drew  the  animated  fountain  to  the  wide  chair, 
w^here  they  had  sat  together  since  they  were  born,  wiped 
her  eyes,  and  patted  her  back,  with  an  idea  that  it  was 
soothing  to  babies,  and  why  not  to  girls  ? 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.     1 35 

"  I  wish  mother  was  at  home,"  sighed  Dolly,  longing 
for  tliat  port  which  was  always  a  haven  of  refuge  in 
domestic  squalls  like  this. 

*•'  Write,  and  tell  her  not  to  stay  till  Saturday." 

"  Xo  ;  it  would  spoil  her  visit,  and  you  know  she 
deferred  it  to  help  us  through  this  dreadful  masquerade. 
But  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"Why,  bless  your  heart,  it's  simple  enough.  I'll  tell 
Bopp,  beg  his  pardon,  say  '  Dolly's  willing,'  and  there 
you  are  all  taut  and  ship-shape  again." 

"  I  wouldn't  for  the  world,  Dick.  It  would  be  very 
hard  for  you,  very  awkward  for  me,  and  do  no  good  in 
the  end ;  for  August  is  so  proud  he'd  never  forgive  you 
for  such  a  trick,  would  never  believe  that  I  '  had  a  heart* 
after  all  you've  said  and  I've  done  ;  and  I  should  only 
hear  with  my  own  ears  that  he  thanked  me  for  that  No. 
Oh,  why  can't  people  know  when  they  are  in  love,  and 
not  go  heels  over  head  before  they  are  ready  !  " 

"Well,  if  that  don't  suit,  I'll  let  it  alone,  for  that  is  all 
I  can  suggest ;  and  if  you  like  your  woman's  way  better, 
try  it,  only  you'll  have  to  fly  round,  because  to-morrow  is 
the  last  night,  you  know." 

"  I  shan't  go,  Dick." 

"AYhynot?  we  are  going  to  give  him  the  rosewood 
set  of  things,  have  speeches,  cheers  for  the  King  of 
Clubs,  and  no  end  of  fun." 

"  I  can't  help  it ;  there  would  be  no  fun  for  me,  and  I 
couldn't  look  him  in  the  face  after  all  this." 

"  Oh,  pooh  !  yes  you  could,  or  it  will  be  the  first  time 
you  dared  not  do  damage  with  those  wicked  eyes  of 
yours." 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  ever  loved  any  one."     Dolly's 


136  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

voice  was  so  low,  and  her  head  drooped  so  much,  that 
this  brief  confession  was  apparently  put  away  in  Dick's 
pocket ;  and,  being  an  exceedingly  novel  one,  filled 
that  ardent  youth  with  a  desire  to  deposit  a  similar 
one  in  the  other  pocket,  which,  being  emptied  of  its 
accustomed  contents,  left  a  somewhat  aching  void  in  itself 
and  the  heart  underneath.  After  a  moment's  silence,  he 
said,  — 

"  Well,  if  you  Avon't  go,  you  can  settle  it  when  he 
comes  here,  though  I  think  we  should  all  do  better  to 
confess  coming  home  in  the  dark." 

"  He  won't  come  here  again,  Dick." 

"  Won't  he  !  that  shows  you  don't  know  Bopp  as  well  as 
I.  He'll  come  to  say  good-by,  to  thank  mother  for  her 
kindness,  and  you  and  me  for  the  little  things  we've  done 
for  him  (I  wish  I'd  left  the  last  undone !),  and  go  away 
like  a  gentleman,  as  he  is,  —  see  if  he  don't." 

"  Do  you  think  so?     Then  I  must  see  him." 

"  I'm  sure  he  will,  for  we  men  don't  bear  malice  and 
sulk  and  bawl  when  we  come  to  grief  this  way,  but  stand 
up  and  take  it  without  winking,  like  the  young  Spartan 
brick  when  the  fox  was  digging  into  him,  you  know." 

''  Then  of  course  you'll  forgive  Fan." 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do,"  gi'owled  Dick. 

"  Ah  ha  !  your  theory  is  very  good,  sir,  but  your  prac- 
tice is  bosh,"  quoted  Dolly,  with  a  gleam  of  the  old  mis- 
chief in  her  face. 

Dick  took  a  sudden  turn  through  the  room,  burst  out 
laughing,  and  came  back,  saying  heartily,  — 

"I'll  own  up  ;  it  is  mean  to  feel  so,  and  I'll  think  about 
forgiving  you  both  ;  but  she  may  stop  up  the  hole  in  the 
wall,  for  she  won't  get  any  more  letters  just  yet ;  and  you 


KING    OF    CLUBS    AND    QL^EEN    OF    HEARTS.         I37 

may  devote  your  epistolary  powers  to  A.  Bopp  in  future. 
Well,  what  is  it?  free  your  mind,  and  have  done  with  it ; 
but  don't  make  your  nose  red,  or  take  the  starch  out  of 
my  collar  with  any  more  salt  water,  if  you  please." 

"  No,  I  won't ;  and  I  only  want  to  say  that,  as  you 
owe  the  explanation  to  us  both,  perhaps  it  Avould  be  best 
for  you  to  tell  August  your  part  of  the  thing  as  you  come 
home  to-morrow,  and  then  leave  the  rest  to  fate.  I  can't 
let  him  go  away  thinking  me  such  a  heartless  creature, 
and  once  gone  it  will  be  too  late  to  mend  the  matter. 
Can  you  do  this  without  getting  me  into  another  scrape, 
do  you  think?  " 

"  I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,  and  I  call  that  sensible.  I'll 
fix  it  capitally,  —  go  down  on  my  knees  in  the  mud,  if  it 
is  necessary  ;  treat  you  like  eggs  for  fear  of  another 
smash-up  ;  and  bring  him  home  in  such  a  tip-top  state, 
you'll  only  have  to  nod  and  find  yourself  Mrs.  B.  any 
day  you  like.  Now  let's  kiss  and  be  friends,  and  then 
go  pitch  into  that  pie  for  luncheon." 

So  they  did ;  and  an  hour  afterward  were  rioting  in 
the  garret  under  pretence  of  putting  grandma's  things 
aw^ay  ;  for  at  eighteen,  in  spite  of  love  and  mischief,  boys 
and  girls  have  a  spell  to  exorcise  blue  devils,  and  a  happy 
faculty  of  forgetting  that  "  the  world  is  hollow,  and  their 
dolls  stuffed  with  sawxlust." 

Dick  was  right,  for  on  the  following  evening,  after  the 
lesson,  Mr.  Bopp  did  go  home  with  him,  "  to  say  good-by, 
like  a  gentleman  as  he  was."  Dolly  got  over  the  first 
greeting  in  the  dusky  hall,  and  as  her  guest  passed  on  to 
the  parlor,  she  popped  her  head  out  to  ask  anxiously,  — 

"  Did  you  say  anything,  Dick  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't ;  something  has   happened  to  him ;  he'll 


138  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

tell  you  about  it.  I'm  going  to  see  to  the  horse,  so  take 
your  time,  and  do  what  you  like ;  "  with  which  vague 
information  Dick  vanished,  and  Dolly  wished  herself  any- 
where but  where  she  was. 

Mr.  Bopp  sat  before  the  fire,  looking  so  haggard  and 
worn-out  that  the  girl's  conscience  pricked  her  sorely  for 
Jier  part  in  the  change  ;  but  plucking  up  her  courage,  she 
stirred  briskly  among  the  tea-cups,  asking,  — 

"  What  shall  I  give  you,  sir?  " 

"  Thank  you,  I  haf  no  care  to  eat." 

Something  in  his  spiritless  mien  and  sorrowful  voice 
made  Dolly's  eyes  fill ;  but  knowing  she  must  depend 
upon  herself  now,  and  make  the  best  of  her  position,  she 
said  kindly,  yet  nervously,  — 

"  You  look  tired :  let  me  do  something  for  you  if  I 
can  ;  shall  I  sing  for  you  a  little  ?  you  once  said  music 
rested  you." 

"  You  are  kind ;  I  could  like  that  I  think.  Excoose 
me  if  I  am  dull,  I  haf,  —  yes,  a  little  air  if  you  please." 

More  and  more  disturbed  by  his  absent,  troubled  man- 
ner, Dolly  began  a  German  song  he  had  taught  her,  but 
before  the  first  line  was  sung  he  stopped  her  with  an 
imploring,  — 

"  For  Gott  sake  not  that !  I  cannot  hear  it  this  night ; 
it  was  the  last  I  sung  her  in  the  Yaterland." 

"  Mr.  Bopp,  what  is  it?  Dick  says  you  have  a  trou- 
ble ;  tell  me,  and  let  us  help  you  if  we  can.  Are  you 
ill,  in  want,  or  has  any  one  injured  you  in  any  way? 
Oh,  let  me  help  you  !  " 

Tears  had  been  streaming  down  Mr.  Bopp's  cheeks, 
but  as  she  spoke  he  checked  them,  and  tried  to  answer 
steadily,  — 


KING  OF  CLUBS  AND  QUEEN  OF  HEARTS.    1 39 

"  No,  I  am  not  ill ;  I  haf  no  wants  now,  and  no  one 
has  hurt  me  but  in  kindness  ;  yet  I  haf  so  great  a  grief, 
I  could  not  bear  it  all  alone,  and  so  I  came  to  ask  a  lit- 
tle sympathy  from  your  good  Mutter,  who  has  been  kind 
to  me  as  if  I  was  a  son.  She  is  not  here,  and  I  thought 
I  would  stop  back  my  grief;  but  that  moosic  was  too 
much  ;  you  pity  me,  and  so  I  tell  you.  See,  now  !  when 
I  find  things  go  bright  with  me,  and  haf  a  hope  of  much 
work,  I  take  the  little  store  I  saved,  I  send  it  to  my 
friend  Carl  Hoffman,  who  is  coming  from  ray  home,  and 
say,  '  Bring  Ulla  to  me  now,  for  I  can  make  life  go  well 
to  her,  and  I  am  hungry  till  I  haf  her  in  my  arms  again.* 
I  tell  no  one,  for  I  am  bold  to  think  that  one  day  I  come 
here  with  her  in  my  hand,  to  let  her  thank  you  in  her  so 
sweet  way  for  all  you  haf  done  for  me.  Well,  I  watch 
the  wind,  I  count  the  days,  I  haf  no  rest  for  joy ;  and 
when  Carl  comes,  I  fly  to  him.  He  gifs  me  back  my 
store,  he  falls  upon  my  neck  and  does  not  speak,  then  I 
know  my  little  girl  will  never  come,  for  she  has  gone  to 
Himmel  before  I  could  make  a  home  for  her  on  earth. 
Oh,  my  Ulla  !  it  is  hard  to  bear  ;  "  and  poor  Mr.  Bopp 
covered  his  face,  and  laid  it  down  on  his  empty  plate,  as 
if  he  never  cared  to  lift  it  up  again. 

Then  Dolly  forgot  herself  in  her  great  sympathy,  and, 
going  to  him,  she  touched  the  bent  head  with  a  soothing 
hand ;  let  her  tears  flow  to  comfort  his  ;  and  whispered 
in  her  tenderest  voice,  — 

"  Dear  Mr.  Bopp,  I  wish  I  could  cure  this  sorrow,  but 
as  I  cannot,  let  me  bear  it  with  you  ;  let  me  tell  you  how 
we  loved  the  little  child,  and  longed  to  see  her ;  how  we 
should  have  rejoiced  to  know  you  had  so  dear  a  friend  to 
make  your  life  happy  in  this  strange  land  ;  how  we  shall 


140  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

grieve  for  your  gi-eat  loss,  and  long  to  prove  our  respect 
and  love  for  you.  I  cannot  say  this  as  I  ought,  but,  oh, 
be  comforted,  for  you  will  see  the  child  again,  and, 
remembering  that  she  waits  for  you,  you  will  be  glad  to 
go  when  God  calls  you  to  meet  your  Ulla  in  that  other 
Fatherland." 

"  Ah,  I  will  go  now  !  I  haf  no  wish  to  stay,  for  all 
my  life  is  black  to  me.  If  I  had  found  that  other  little 
friend  to  fill  her  place,  I  should  not  grieve  so  much, 
because  she  is  weller  there  above  than  I  could  make  her 
here  ;  but  no  :  I  wait  for  that  other  one  ;  I  save  all  my 
heart  for  her  ;  I  send  it,  but  it  comes  back  to  me  ;  then 
I  know  my  hope  is  dead,  and  I  am  all  alone  in  the 
strange  land." 

There  was  neither  bitterness  nor  reproach  in  these 
broken  words,  only  a  patient  sorrow,  a  regretful  pain,  as 
if  he  saAv  the  two  lost  loves  before  him,  and  uttered  over 
them  an  irrepressible  lament.  It  was  too  much  for 
Dolly,  and  with  sudden  resolution  she  spoke  out  fast  and 
low,  — 

"Mr.  Bopp,  that  was  a  mistake.  It  was  not  me  you 
saw  at  the  masque  ;  it  was  Dick.  He  played  a  cruel 
trick ;  he  insulted  you  and  wronged  me  by  that  deceit, 
and  I  find  it  very  hard  to  pardon  hira." 

"  What !  what  is  that?"  and  Mr.  Bopp  looked  up  with 
tears  still  shining  in  his  beard,  and  intense  surprise  in 
every  feature  of  his  face. 

Dolly  turned  scarlet,  and  her  heart  beat  fast  as  she 
repeated  with  an  unsteady  voice,  — 

"  It  was  Dick,  not  me." 

A  cloud  swept  over  Mr.  Bopp's  face,  and  he  knit  his 
brows  a  moment  as  if  Dolly  had  not  been  far  from  right 


KING    OF    CI.UBS    AND    QUEEN    OF    HEARTS.        I4I 

wheu  she  said  "  he  never  would  forgive  the  joke."  Pres- 
ently, he  spoke  in  a  tone  she  had  never  heard  before,  — 
cold  and  quiet,  —  and  in  his  eye  she  thought  she  read 
contempt  for  her  brother  and  herself : 

'•  I  see  now,  and  I  say  no  more  but  this  ;  it  was  not 
kind  when  I  so  trusted  you.  Yet  it  is  well,  for  you  and 
Richart  are  so  one,  I  haf  no  doubt  he  spoke  your  wish." 

Here  was  a  desperate  state  of  things.  Dolly  had  done 
her  best,  yet  he  did  not,  or  would  not,  understand,  and 
before  she  could  restrain  them,  the  words  slipped  over 
her  tongue, — 

"  No  !  Dick  and  I  never  agree." 

Mr.  Bopp  started,  swept  three  spoons  and  a  tea-cup  off 
the  table  as  he  turned,  for  something  in  the  hasty  whisper 
reassured  him.  The  color  sprang  up  to  his  cheek,  the 
old  warmth  to  his  eye,  the  old  erectness  to  his  figure,  and 
the  eager  accent  to  his  voice.  He  rose,  drew  Dolly 
nearer,  took  her  face  between  his  hands,  and  bending, 
fixed  on  her  a  look  tender,  yet  commanding,  as  he  said, 
Mitli  an  earnestness  that  stirred  her  as  words  had  never 
done  before,  — 

"  Dollee,  he  said  No  !  do  you  sa.j  Yes?" 

She  could  not  speak,  but  her  heart  stood  up  in  her 
eyes,  and  answered  him  so  eloquently  that  he  was  satisfied. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  it's  all  right !  "  thought  Dick,  as, 
peeping  in  at  the  window  ten  minutes  later,  he  saw  Dolly 
enthroned  upon  Mr.  Bopp's  knee,  both  her  hands  in  his, 
and  an  expression  in  her  April  countenance  which  proved 
that  she  found  it  natural  and  pleasant  to  be  sitting  there, 
with  her  head  on  the  kind  heart  that  loved  her  ;  to  hear 
herself  called  "  meine  leibchen  "  ;   to  know  that  she  alone 


143  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

could  comfort  him  for  little  Ulla's  loss,  and  fill  her  empty 
place. 

"  They  make  a  very  pretty  landscape,  but  too  much 
honey  isn't  good  for  'em,  so  I'll  go  in,  and  we'll  eat, 
drink,  and  be  merry,  in  honor  of  the  night." 

He  rattled  the  latch  and  tramped  on  the  mat,  to  warn 
them  of  his  approach,  and  appeared  just  as  Dolly  was 
skimming  into  a  chair,  and  Mr.  Bopp  picking  up  the 
spoons,  which  he  dropped  again  to  meet  Dick,  and  kiss- 
ing him  on  both  cheeks,  after  the  fashion  of  his  country, 
as  he  said,  pointing  to  Dolly,  — 

"  See,  it  is  all  fine  again.  I  forgif  you,  and  leave  all 
blame  to  that  bad  spirit,  Mephistopheles,  who  has  much 
pranks  like  that,  but  never  pays  one  for  their  pain,  as 
you  haf  me.  Heart's  dearest,  come  and  say  a  friendly 
word  to  Richart,  then  we  will  haf  a  little  health :  Long 
life  and  happiness  to  the  King  of  Clubs  and  the  Queen 
of  Hearts." 

"  Yes,  August,  and  as  he's  to  be  a  farmer,  we'll  add 
another :  '  Wiser  w4ts  and  better  manners  to  the  Knave 
of  Spades.* " 


MRS.     PODGERS'    TEAPOT. 

All.  dear  mc,  dear  me,  I'm  a  deal  too  comfortable ! " 
Judging  from  appearances,  Mrs.  Podgers  certainly  bad 
some  cause  for  tbat  unusual  exclamation.  To  begin 
with,  the  room  was  comfortable.  It  was  tidy,  bright, 
and  Avarm  ;  full  of  cosy  corners  and  capital  contrivances 
for  quiet  enjoyment.  The  chairs  seemed  to  extend  their 
plump  arms  invitingly ;  the  old-fashioned  sofa  Avas  so 
hospitable,  that  wlioever  sat  down  upon  it  was  slow  to  get 
up  ;  the  pictures,  though  portraits,  did  not  stare  one  out 
of  countenance,  but  surveyed  the  scene  with  an  air  of 
tranquil  enjoyment ;  and  the  unshuttered  windows  al- 
lowed the  cheery  light  to  shine  out  into  the  snowy  street 
through  blooming  screens  of  Christmas  roses  and  white 
chrysanthemums. 

The  fire  was  comfortable  ;  for  it  was  neither  hidden  in 
a  stove  nor  imprisoned  behind  bars,  but  went  rollicking 
up  the  wide  chimney  with  a  jovial  roar.  It  flickered 
over  the  suppcr-tab'le  as  if  curious  to  discover  what 
savory  viands  were  concealed  under  the  shining  covers. 
It  touched  up  the  old  portraits  till  they  seemed  to  wink  ; 
it  covered  the  walls  with  comical  shadows,  as  if  the  portly 
chairs  had  set  their  arms  akimbo  and  were  dancing  a 
jig  ;  it  flashed  out  into  the  street  with  a  voiceless  greet- 
ing to  every  passer-by ;   it  kindled  mimic   fires   ia  the 

(1+3) 


144  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

brass  andirons  and  the  teapot  simmering  on  the  hob, 
and,  best  of  all,  it  shone  its  brightest  on  Mrs.  Podgers, 
as  if  conscious  that  it  couldn't  do  a  better  thing. 

Mrs.  Podgers  was  comfortable  as  she  sat  there,  buxom, 
blooming,  and  brisk,  in  spite  of  her  forty  years  and  her 
widow's  cap.  Her  black  gown  was  illuminated  to  such 
an  extent  that  it  couldn't  look  sombre ;  her  cap  had 
given  up  trying  to  be  prim  long  ago,  and  cherry  ribbons 
wouldn't  have  made  it  more  becoming  as  it  set  off  her 
crisp  black  hair,  and  met  in  a  coquettish  bow  under  her 
plump  chin  ;  her  white  apron  encircled  her  trim  waist, 
as  if  conscious  of  its  advantages  ;  and  the  mourning-pin 
upon  her  bosom  actually  seemed  to  twinkle  with  satisfac- 
tion at  the  enviable  post  it  occupied. 

The  sleek  cat,  purring  on  the  hearth,  was  comfortable, 
so  was  the  agTeeable  fragrance  of  muffins  that  pervaded 
the  air,  so  was  the  droAvsy  tick  of  the  clock  in  the  corner  ; 
and  if  anything  was  needed  to  give  a  finishing  touch  to 
the  general  comfort  of  the  scene,  the  figure  pausing  in 
the  doorway  supplied  the  want  most  successfully. 

Heroes  are  always  expected  to  be  young  and  comely, 
also  fierce,  melancholy,  or  at  least  what  novel-readers 
call  "interesting";  but  I  am  forced  to  own  that  my 
present  hero  was  none  of  these.  Half  the  real  beauty, 
virtue,  and  romance  of  the  world  gets  put  into  humble 
souls,  hidden  in  plain  bodies.  Mr.  Jerusalem  Turner 
was  an  example  of  this  ;  and,  at  the  risk  of  shocking 
my  sentimental  readers,  I  must  frankly  state  that  he  was 
fifty,  stout,  and  bald,  also  that  he  used  bad  grammar, 
had  a  double  chin,  and  was  only  the  Co.  in  a  prosperous 
grocery  store.  A  hale  and  hearty  old  gentleman,  with 
cheerful  brown  eyes,  a  ruddy  countenance,  and  curly  gi-ay 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  I45 

liair  sticking  up  all  round  his  head,  with  an  air  of  energy 
and  independence  that  was  pleasant  to  behold.  There 
he  stood,  beaming  upon  the  unconscious  Mrs.  Podgers, 
softly  rubbing  his  hands,  and  smiling  to  himself  with  the 
air  of  a  man  enjoying  the  chief  satisfaction  of  his  life, 
as  he  was. 

"Ah,  dear  me,  dear  me,  I'm  a  deal  too  comfortable  !" 
sighed  Mrs.  Podgers,  addressing  the  teapot. 

"  Not  a  bit,  mum,  not  a  bit." 

In  walked  the  gentleman,  and  up  rose  the  lady,  saying, 
Avith  a  start  and  an  aspect  of  relief,  — 

"  Bless  me,  I  didn't  hear  you  !  I  began  to  think  you 
were  never  coming  to  your  tea,  Mr.  'Rusalem." 

Everybody  called  him  Mr.  'Rusalem,  and  many  people 
were  ignorant  that  he  had  any  other  name.  He  liked  it, 
for  it  began  with  the  children,  and  the  little  voices  had 
endeared  it  to  him,  not  to  mention  the  sound  of  it  from 
Mrs  Podgers'  lips  for  ten  years. 

"  I  know  I'm  late,  mum,  but  I  really  couldn't  help  it. 
To-night's  a  busy  time,  and  the  lads  are  just  good  for 
nothing  with  their  jokes  and  spirits,  so  I  stayed  to  steady 
*em,  and  do  a  little  job  that  turned  up  unexpected." 

"  Sit  right  down  and  have  your  tea  while  you  can, 
then.  I've  kept  it  warm  for  you,  and  the  muffins  are 
done  lovely." 

Mrs.  Podgers  bustled  about  with  an  alacrity  that 
seemed  to  give  an  added  relish  to  the  supper ;  and  when 
her  companion  was  served,  she  sat  smiling  at  him  with 
her  hand  on  the  teapot,  ready  to  replenish  his  cup  before 
he  could  ask  for  it. 

"Have  things  been  fretting  of  you,  mum?  You 
looked  down-hearted   as  I  came  in,  and  that  ain't  ac- 


146  CAMP    AND    FUIESIDE    STORIES. 

cordin'  to  the  time  of  year,  which  is  merry,"  said  Mr. 
'Rusalem,  stirriug  his  tea  with  a  sense  of  solid  satisfaction 
that  would  have  sweetened  a  far  less  palatable  draught. 

"  It's  the  teapot ;  I  don't  know  what's  got  into  it 
to-night ;  but,  as  I  was  waiting  for  you,  it  set  me 
thinking  of  one  thing  and  another,  till  I  declare  I  felt  as 
if  it  had  up  and  spoke  to  me,  showing  me  how  I  wasn't 
grateful  enougli  for  my  blessings,  but  a  deal  more  com- 
fortable than  I  deserved." 

While  speaking,  Mrs.  Podgers'  eyes  rested  on  an 
inscription  which  encircled  the  corpulent  little  silver  tea- 
pot :  "To  our  Benefactor. —  TIigtj  iclw  give  to  the  poor  lend 
to  the  Lord.''  Now  one  wouldn't  think  there  was  any- 
thing in  the  speech  or  the  inscription  to  disturb  Mr. 
'Rusalem  ;  but  there  seemed  to  be,  for  he  fidgeted  in  his 
chair,  dropped  his  fork,  and  glanced  at  the  teapot  with  a 
very  odd  expression.  It  was  a  capital  little  teapot,  solid, 
bright  as  hands  could  make  it,  and  ornamented  with  a 
robust  young  cherub  perched  upon  the  lid,  regardless  of 
the  warmth  of  his  seat.  "With  her  eyes  still  fixed  upon 
it,  Mrs.  Podgers  continued  meditatively,  — 

"You  know  how  fond  I  am  of  the  teapot -for  poor 
Podgers'  sake.  I  really  feel  quite  superstitious  about 
it ;  and  when  thoughts  come  to  me,  as  I  sit  watching  it, 
I  have  faith  in  them,  because  they  always  remind  me  of 
the  past." 

Here,  after  vain  eflforts  to  restrain  himself,  Mr.  'Rusa- 
lem broke  into  a  sudden  laugh,  so  hearty  and  infectious 
that  Mrs.  Podgers  couldn't  help  smiling,  even  while  she 
shook  her  head  at  him. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  mum,  it's  hysterical ;  I'll  never  do  it 


MRS.    PODGERb'    TEAPOT.  147 

again,"  pauted  Mr.  'Rusalem,  as  he  got  his  breath,  and 
went  soberly  on  with  his  supper. 

It  was  a  singular  fact  that  whenever  the  teapot  was 
particularly  alluded  to  he  always  behaved  in  this  incom- 
prehensible manner,  —  laughed,  begged  pardon,  said  it 
was  hysterical,  and  promised  never  to  do  it  again.  It 
used  to  trouble  Mrs.  Podgers  very  much,  but  she  had 
grown  used  to  it ;  and  having  been  obliged  to  overlook 
many  oddities  in  the  departed  Podgers,  she  easily  forgave 
'Rusalem  his  only  one.  After  the  laugh  there  w-as  a 
pause,  during  which  Mrs.  Podgers  sat  absently  polishing 
up  the  silver  cherub,  with  the  memory  of  the  little  son 
who  died  two  Christmases  ago  lying  heavy  at  her  heart, 
and  ]Mr.  'Rusalem  seemed  to  be  turning  something  over 
in  his  mind  as  he  watched  a  bit  of  butter  sink  luxuri- 
ously into  the  warm  bosom  of  a  muffin.  Once  or  twice 
he  paused  as  if  listening,  several  times  he  stole  a  look  at 
Mrs.  Podgers,  and  presently  said,  in  a  somewhat  anxious 
tone,  — 

''  You  was  saying  just  now  that  you  was  a  deal  too 
comfortable,  mum ;  would  you  wish  to  be  made  uncom- 
fortable in  order  to  realize  your  blessings?  " 

"  Yes,  I  should.  I'm  getting  lazy,  selfish,  and  forget- 
ful of  other  folks.  You  leave  me  nothing  to  do,  and 
make  everything  so  easy  for  me  that  I'm  growing  young 
and  giddy  again.  Now  that  isn't  as  it  should  be, 
'Rusalem." 

"  It  meets  my  views  exactly,  mum.  You've  had  your 
hard  times,  your  worryments  and  cares,  and  now  it's 
right  to  take  your  rest." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  take  yours?     I'm   sure  you've 


148  CAMl'    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

earned  it  drudging  thirty  years  in  the  store,  with  more 
extra  work  than  holidays  for  your  sliarc." 

"  Oh  well,  mum,  it's  different  with  me,  you  know. 
Business  is  amusing ;  and  I'm  so  used  to  it  I  shouldn't 
know  myself  if  I  was  out  of  the  store  for  good." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  are  saying  up  something  against 
the  time  Ayhen  business  won't  be  amusing.  You  are  so 
generous,  I'm  afraid  you  forget  you  can't  work  for  other 
people  all  your  days." 

"  Yes,  mum,  I'ye  put  by  a  little  sum  in  a  safe  bank 
that  pays  good  interest,  and  when  I'm  past  work  I'll  fall 
back  and  enjoy  it." 

To  judge  from  the  cheerful  content  of  the  old  gentle- 
man's face  he  was  enjoying  it  already,  as  he  looked  about 
him  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  made  a  capital 
investment,  and  w^as  in  the  receipt  of  generous  diyideuds. 
Seeing  Mrs.  Podgers'  bright  eye  fixed  upon  him,  as 
if  she  suspected  something,  and  would  have  the  truth 
out  of  him  in  two  minutes,  he  recalled  the  conversation 
to  the  point  from  which  it  had  wandered. 

"  If  you  would  like  to  try  how  a  little  misery  suits 
you,  mum,  I  can  accommodate  you  if  you'll  step  up- 
stairs." 

"  Good  gracious,  what  do  you  mean  ?  Who's  up  there  ? 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Podgers,  in 
a  flutter  of  interest,  curiosity,  and  surprise,  as  he  knew 
she  would  be. 

"You  see,  mum,  I  was  doubtful  how  you'd  like  it.  I 
did  it  without  stopping  to  think,  and  then  I  was  afraid 
you'd  consider  it  a  liberty." 

Mr.  'Rusalem  spoke  with  some  hesitation  ;  but  Mrs. 
Podgers  didn't  wait  to  hear  him,  for  she  w^as  already  at 


MRS.    PODGEKS'    TEAPOT.  149 

the  door,  lamp  in  liaud,  and  would  have  been  off  had  she 
known  where  to  go,  "  up-stairs"  being  a  somewhat  vague 
expression.  The  old  gentleman  led  the  way  to  the  room 
he  had  occupied  tor  thirty  years,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Pod- 
gers'  frequent  offers  of  a  better  and  brighter  one.  He 
was  attached  to  it,  small  and  dark  as  it  was,  for  the  joys 
and  sorrows  of  more  than  half  his  life  had  come  to  him 
in  that  little  room,  and  somehow  when  he  was  there  it 
bri-htened  up  amazingly.  Mrs.  Podgers  looked  well 
about  her,  but  saw  nothing  new,  and  her  conductor  said, 
as  he  paused  beside  the  bed,  — 

"  Let  me  tell  you  how  I  found  it  before  I  show  it.  You 
see,  mum,  I  had  to  step  down  the  street  just  at  dark,  and 
passing  the  windows  I  give  a  glance  in,  as  Pve  a  bad 
habit  of  doing  when  the  lamps  is  lighted  and  you  a  set- 
ting there  alone.    Well,  mum,  what  did  I  see  outside  but 
a  ragged  little   chap   a  flattening   his  nose  against  the 
glass'lnd  staring  in  with  all  his  eyes.     I  didn't  blame 
him  much  for  it,  and  on  I  goes  without  a  word.     When 
I  came   back  I   see  him  a  lying  close  to  the  wall,  and 
mistrusting  that  he  was  up  to  some  game  that  might  give 
you   a   scare,  I    speaks   to   him  :    he  don't  answer ;    I 
touches  him :  he  don't  stir  ;  then  I  picks  him  up,  and  see- 
ing that  he's  gone  in  a  fit  or  a  faint,  I  makes  for  the 
st^re  with  a  will.     He  come  to  rapid  ;  and  finding  that 
he  was  most  froze   and  starved,  I  fed  and  warmed  and 
fixed  him  a  trifle,  and  then  tucked  him  away  here,  for 
he's  got  no  folks  to  worry  for  him,  and  was  too  used  up 
to  go  out  again  to-night.     That's  the  story,  mum ;  and 
now  ril  produce  the  little  chap  if  I  can  find  him." 

With  that  :Mr.  'Rusalem  began  to  grope  about  the  bed, 
chuckling,  yet  somewhat  anxious,  for  not  a  vestige  of  an 
9 


150  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

occupant  appeared,  till  a  dive  downward  produced  a  sud- 
den agitation  of  the  clothes,  a  squeak,  and  the  unexpected 
appearance  out  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  of  a  singular  figure, 
that  dodged  into  a  comer,  with  one  arm  up,  as  if  to 
ward  off  a  blow,  while  a  sleepy  little  voice  exclaimed 
beseechingly,  "  I'm  up,  I'm  up,  don't  hit  me  !  " 

"  Lord  love  the  child,  who'd  think  of  doing  that ! 
"Wake  up,  Joe,  and  see  your  friends,"  said  Mr.  'Rusa- 
lem,  advancing  cautiously. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  down  went  the  arm,  and 
Mrs.  Podgers  saw  a  boy  of  nine  or  ten,  arrayed  in  a 
flannel  garment  that  evidently  belonged  to  Mr.  'Kusalem, 
for  though  none  too  long  it  was  immensely  broad,  and 
the  voluminous  sleeves  were  pinned  up,  showing  a  pair 
of  w^asted  arms,  chapped  with  cold  and  mottled  with 
bruises.  A  large  blue  sock  still  covered  one  foot,  the 
other  w^as  bound  up  as  if  hurt.  A  tall  cotton  nightcap, 
garnished  with  a  red  tassel,  looked  like  a  big  extinguisher 
on  a  small  candle  ;  and  from  under  it  a  pair  of  dark, 
hollow  eyes  glanced  sharply  with  a  shrewd,  suspicious 
look,  that  made  the  little  face  more  pathetic  than  the 
marks  of  suffering,  neglect,  and  abuse,  which  told  the 
child's  story  without  words.'  As  if  quite  reassured  by 
'Rusalem's  presence,  the  boy  shuffled  out  of  his  corner, 
saying  coolly,  as  he  prepared  to  climb  into  his  nest 
again, — 

"  I  thought  it  was  the  old  one  when  you  grabbed  me. 
Ain't  this  bed  a  first-rater,  though  ?  " 

Mr.  'Rasalem  lifted  the  composed  young  personage 
into  the  middle  of  the  big  bed,  where  he  sat  bolt  upright, 
surveying  the  prospect  from  under  the  extinguisher  with 
an   equanimity  that  quite   took  the   good  lady's  breath 


MRS.    PODGE  lis'    TEAPOT.  15^ 

away.  But  Mr.  'Rusalcm  loll  back  and  pointed  to  him, 
saying,  "There  he  is,  mum,"  with  as  much  pride  and 
satisfaction  as  if  he  had  found  some  rare  and  valuable 
treasure;  for  the  little  child  was  very  precious  in  his 
sight.  Mrs.  Fodgers  really  didn't  know  Avhethcr  to 
laugh  or  cry,  and  settled  the  matter  by  plumping  down 
beside  the  boy,  saying  cordially,  as  she  took  the  gi'imy 
little  hands  into  her  own, — 

"  He's  heartily  welcome,  'Rusalem.  Now  tell  me  all 
about  it,  my  poor  dear,  and  don't  be  afraid." 

"  Ho,  I  ain't  afraid  a  you  nor  he.  I  ain't  got  nothin' 
to  tell,  only  my  name's  Joe  and  I'm  sleepy." 

"  Who  is  your  mother,  and  w^here  do  you  live,  deary?" 
asked  Mrs.  Podgers,  haunted  with  the  idea  that  some 
woman  must  be  anxious  for  the  child. 

"  Ain't  got  any,  we  don't  have  'em  wdiere  I  lives.    The 
old  one  takes  care  a  me." 
"\Yho  is  the  old  one?" 

"  Granny.  I  works  for  her,  and  she  lets  me  stay 
alonger  her." 

"  Bless  the  dear  !  Avhat  w^ork  can  such  a  mite  do?  " 
"  Heaps  a  things.     I  sifs  ashes,  p.icks  rags,  goes  beg- 
gin',  runs  arrants,  and  sometimes  the  big  fellers  lets  me 
call  papers.      That's  fun,   only  I   gets   knocked  round, 
and  it  hurts,  you'd  better  believe." 

"  Did  you  come  here  begging,  and,  being  afraid  to  ring, 
stand  outside  looking  in  at  me  enjoying  myself,  like  a 
selfish  creeter  as  I  am?" 

"  I  forgot  to  ask  for  the  cold  vittles  a  lookin'  at  warm 
ones,  and  thinkin'  if  they  was  mine  what  I'd  give  the  little 
fellers  when  I  has  my  tree." 
"Your  what,  child?'* 


152  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  My  Christmas-tree.  Look  a  here,  I've  got  it,  and 
all  these  to  put  on  it  to-morrer." 

From  under  his  pillow  the  boy  produced  a  smaU 
branch  of  hemlock,  dropped  from  some  tree  on  its  pas- 
sage to  a  gayer  festival  than  little  Joe's  ;  also  an  old 
handkerchief  which  contained  his  treasures,  —  only  a 
few  odds  and  ends  picked  up  in  the  streets :  a  gnarly 
apple,  half-a-dozen  nuts,  two  or  three  dingy  bonbons, 
gleaned  from  the  sweepings  of  some  store,  and  a  bit  of 
cheese,  which  last  possession  he  evidently  prized  higldy. 

"  That's  for  the  old  one  ;  she  likes  it,  and  I  kep  it  for 
her,  —  cause  she  don't  hit  so  hard  when  I  fetch  her 
goodies.  You  don't  mind,  do  you  ? "  he  said,  looking 
inquiringly  at  Mr.  'Rusalem,  who  blew  his  nose  like  a 
trumpet,  and  patted  the  big  nightcap  with  a  fatherly 
gesture  more  satisfactory  than  words. 

"  What  have  you  kept  for  yourself,  dear?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Podgers,  with  an  irrepressible  sniff,  as  she  looked  at  the 
poor  little  presents,  and  remembered  that  they  "  didn't 
have  mothers  "  where  the  child  lived. 

"  Oh,  I  had  my  treat  alonger  him,"  said  the  boy, 
nodding  toward  'Rusalem,  and  adding  enthusiastically, 
"Wasn't  that  prime!  It  w^as  real  Christmasy  a  settin* 
by  the  fire,  eating  lots  and  not  bein'  hit." 

Here  Mrs.  Podgers  broke  down  ;  and,  taking  the  boy 
in  her  arms,  sobbed  over  him  as  if  she  had  found  her 
lost  Neddy  in  this  sad  shape.  The  little  lad  regarded 
her  demonstration  with  some  uneasiness  at  first,  but 
there  is  a  magic  about  a  genuine  woman  that  wins  its 
way  everywhere,  and  soon  the  outcast  nestled  to  her, 
feeling  that  this  wonderful  night  was  getting  more 
"  Christmasy"  every  minute. 


MRS.    PODGERS     TEAPOT.  I53 

Mrs.  Podgers  was  herself  again  directly ;  and  seeing 
that  the  child's  eyelids  were  heavy  with  weakness  and 
weariness,  she  made  him  comfortable  among  the  pillows, 
and  began  to  sing  the  lullaby  that  used  to  hush  her  little 
son  to  sleep.  Mr.  'Rusalem  took  something  from  his 
drawer,  and  was  stealing  away,  when  the  child  opened 
his  eyes  and  started  up,  calling  out  as  he  nodded,  till  the 
tassel  danced  on  this  preposterous  cap,  — 

"  I  say  !  good  night,  good  night !  " 

Looking  much  gratified,  Mr.  'Rusalem  returned,  shook 
the  little  hand  extended  to  him,  kissed  the  grateful  face, 
and  went  away  to  sit  on  the  stairs  with  tear  after  tear 
dropping  off  the  end  of  his  nose,  as  he  listened  to  the 
voice  that,  after  two  years  of  silence,  sung  the  air  this 
simple  soul  thought  the  loveliest  in  the  world.  At  first, 
it  was  more  sob  than  song,  but  soon  the  soothing  music 
flowed  on  unbroken,  and  the  wondering  child,  for  the 
first  time  within  his  memory,  fell  asleep  in  the  sweet 
shelter  of  a  woman's  arms. 

When  Mrs.  Podgers  came  out,  she  found  Mr.  'Rusalem 
intent  on  stuffing  another  parcel  into  a  long  gray  stocking 
already  full  to  overflowing. 

"For  the  little  chap,  mum.  He  let  fall  that  he'd 
never  done  this  sort  of  thing  in  his  life,  and  as  he  hadn't 
any  stockings  of  his  own,  poor  dear,  I  took  the  liberty 
of  lending  him  one  of  mine,"  explained  Mr.  'Rusalem, 
surveying  the  knobby  article  with  evident  regret  that  it 
wasn't  bijrj^er. 

CO 

Mrs.  Podgers  said  nothing,  but  looked  from  the  stock- 
ing to  the  fatherly  old  gentleman  who  held  it ;  and  it  is 
my  private  belief,  that  if  Mrs.  Podgers  had  obeyed  the 
impulse  of  her  heart,  she  would  have  forgotten  decorum. 


154  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

and  kissed  him  on  the  spot.  She  didn't,  however,  but 
went  briskly  into  her  o^^^l  room,  whence  she  presently 
returned  with  red  eyes,  and  a  pile  of  small  garments  in 
her  hands.  Having  nearly  exhausted  his  pincushion  in 
trying  to  suspend  the  heavy  stocking,  Mr.  'Rusalem  had 
just  succeeded  as  she  appeared.  He  saw  what  she 
carried,  Avatched  her  arrange  the  little  shirt,  jacket  and 
trousers,  the  half-worn  shoes  and  tidy  socks,  beside  the 
bed,  Avith  motherly  care,  and  stand  looking  at  the  un- 
conscious child,  with  an  expression  which  caused  Mr. 
'Rusalem  to  dart  down  stairs,  and  compose  himself  by 
rubbing  his  hair  erect,  and  shaking  his  fist  in  the  painted 
face  of  the  late  Podgers. 

An  hour  or  two  later  the  store  was  closed,  the  room 
cleared,  Mrs.  Podgers  in  her  arm-chair  on  one  side  of 
the  hearth,  with  her  knitting  in  her  hand,  Mr.  'Rusalem 
in  his  arm-chair  on  the  other  side,  with  his  newspaper  on 
his  knee,  both  looking  so  cosy  and  comfortable  that  any 
one  Avould  have  pronounced  them  a  Darby  and  Joan  on 
the  spot.  Ah,  but  they  weren't,  you  see,  and  that  spoilt 
the  illusion,  to  one  party  at  least.  Both  were  rather 
silent,  both  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  fire,  and  the  fire 
gave  them  both  excellent  counsel,  as  it  seldom  fails  to  do 
when  it  finds  any  kindred  warmth  and  brightness  in  the 
hearts  and  souls  of  those  who  study  it.  Mrs.  Podgers 
kindled  first,  and  broke  out  suddenly  with  a  nod  of  great 
determination. 

"  'Rusalem,  I'm  going  to  keep  that  boy  if  it's  pos- 
sible !  " 

"  You  shall,  mum,  whether  it's  possible  or  not,"  he 
answered,  nodding  back  at  her  with  equal  decision. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing 


MRS.    PODGERS     TEAPOT.  I55 

before.  There's  a  many  children  suffering  for  mothers, 
and  heaven  knows  I'm  wearying  for  some  little  child  to  fill 
my  Neddy's  place.  I  wonder  if  you  didn't  think  of  this 
when  you  took  that  boy  in  ;  it  would  be  just  like  you  ! " 

Mr.  'Rusalem  shook  his  head,  but  looked  so  guilty, 
that  Mrs.  Podgers  was  satisfied,  called  him  "  a  thought- 
ful dear,"  within  herself,  and  kindled  still  more. 

"  Between  you,  and  Joe,  and  the  teapot,  I've  got 
another  idea  into  my  stupid  head,  and  I  know  you  won't 
laugh  at  it.  That  loving  little  soul  has  tried  to  get  a 
tree  for  some  poor  babies  who  have  no  one  to  think  of 
them  but  him,  and  even  remembered  the  old  one,  who 
must  be  a  wretch  to  hit  that  child,  and  hit  hard,  too,  I 
know  by  the  looks  of  his  arms.  Well,  I've  a  great 
lonirini]^  to  go  and  give  him  a  tree, —  a  right  good  one,  like 
those  Neddy  used  to  have ;  to  get  in  the  '  little  fellers ' 
he  tells  of,  give  them  a  good  dinner,  and  then  a  regular 
Christmas  frolic.     Can't  it  be  done?  " 

"  Nothing  could  be  easier,  mum  ;"  and  Mr.  'Rusalem, 
who  had  been  taking  counsel  with  the  fire  till  he  quite 
glowed  with  warmth  and  emotion,  nodded,  smiled,  and 
rubbed  his  hands,  as  if  Mrs.  Podgers  had  invited  him  to 
a  Lord  Mayor's  feast,  or  some  equally  gorgeous  jollifica- 
tion. 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  day,  and  thinking  of  how  it  came 
to  be,  that  makes  me  feel  as  if  I  wanted  to  help  every- 
body, and  makes  this  Christmas  so  bright  and  happy  that 
I  never  can  forget  it,"  continued  the  good  woman,  with 
a  heartiness  that  made  her  honest  face  quite  beautiful  to 
behold. 

If  Mrs.  Podgers  had  only  known  what  was  going  on 
under  the  capacious  Avaistcoat  opposite,  she  would  have 


156  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

held  her  tongue  ;  for  the  more  cliaritable,  earnest,  and 
tender-hearted  she  grew,  the  harder  it  became  for  Mr. 
'Rusalem  to  restrain  the  declaration  which  had  been 
hovering  on  his  lips  ever  since  old  Podgers  died.  As 
the  comely  relict  sat  there  talking  in  that  genial  way, 
and  glowing  with  good-will  to  all  mankind,  it  was  too 
much  for  Mr.  'Rusalem ;  and  finding  it  impossible  to 
resist  the  desire  to  know  his  fate,  he  yielded  to  it,  gave 
a  porpentous  hem,  and  said  abruptly,  — 

"  Well,  mum,  have  I  done  it?  " 

"Done  what?"  asked  Mrs.  P.,  going  on  with  her 
work. 

"  Made  you  uncomfortable,  according  to  promise." 

"  Oh  dear,  no,  you've  made  me  very  happy,  and  will 
have  to  try  again,"  she  answered,  laugliing. 

"  I  will,  mum." 

As  he  spoke  Mr.  'Rusalem  drew  his  chair  nearer, 
leaned  forward,  and  looking  straight  at  her,  said  deliber- 
ately, though  his  voice  shook  a  little, — 

"  Mrs.  Podgers,  I  love  you  hearty ;  would  you  have 
any  objections  to  marrying  of  me?  " 

Not  a  word  said  Mrs.  Podgers ;  but  her  knitting 
dropped  out  of  her  hand,  and  she  looked  as  uncomfort- 
able as  she  could  desire. 

"  I  thought  that  would  do  it,"  muttered  Mr.  'Rusalem  ; 
but  went  on  steadily,  though  his  ruddy  face  got  paler  and 
paler,  his  voice  huskier  and  huskier,  and  his  heart  fuller 
and  fuller  every  word  he  attempted. 

"  You  see,  mum,  I  have  took  the  liberty  of  loving  you 
ever  since  you  came,  more  than  ten  years  ago.  I  was 
eager  to  make  it  kno'wn  long  before  this,  but  Podgers 
spoke  first  and  then  it  was  no  use.     It  come  hard  for  a 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  157 

time,  but  I  learned  to  give  you  up,  though  I  couldn't 
learn  not  to  love  you,  being  as  it  was  impossible.  Since 
Podgers  died  I've  turned  it  over  in  my  mind  frequent, 
but  felt  as  if  I  was  too  old,  and  rough,  and  poor  every 
way  to  ask  so  much.  Lately,  the  wish  has  growed  too 
strong  for  me,  and  to-night  it  won't  be  put  down.  If 
you  want  a  trial,  mum,  I  should  be  that  I'll  warrant,  for 
do  my  best,  I  could  never  be  all  I'm  wishful  of  being 
for  your  sake.  Would  you  give  it  name,  and  if  not 
agreeable,  we'll  let  it  drop,  mum,  we'll  let  it  drop." 

K  it  hadn't  been  for  the  teapot,  Mrs.  Podgers  would 
have  said  Yes  at  once.  The  word  was  on  her  lips,  but  as 
she  looked  up  the  fire  flashed  brightly  on  the  teapot 
(which  always  occupied  the  place  of  honor  on  the 
sideboard,  for  Mrs.  P.  was  intensely  proud  of  it),  and 
she  stopped  to  think,  for  it  reminded  her  of  something. 
In  order  to  explain  this,  we  must  keep  Mr.  'Rusalem 
waiting  for  his  answer  a  minute. 

Rather  more  than  ten  years  ago,  old  Podgers  happen- 
ing to  want  a  housekeeper,  invited  a  poor  relation  to  fill 
that  post  in  his  bachelor  establishment.  He  never  would 
have  thought  of  marrying  her,  though  the  young  woman 
was  both  notable  and  handsome,  if  he  hadn't  discovered 
that  his  partner  loved  her.  Whereupon  the  perverse  old 
fellow  immediately  proposed,  lest  he  should  lose  his 
housekeeper,  and  was  accepted  from  motives  of  grati- 
tude. Mrs.  Podgers  was  a  dutiful  wife,  but  not  a  very 
happy  one,  for  the  world  said  that  Mr.  P.  was  a  hard, 
miserly  man,  and  his  wife  was  forced  to  believe  the 
world  in  the  right,  till  the  teapot  changed  her  opinion. 
There  happened  to  be  much  suffering  among  the  poor 
one  year,  owing  to  the  burning  of  the  mills,  and  contri- 


158  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

butions  were  solicited  for  their  relief.  Old  Podgers, 
though  a  rich  man,  refused  to  give  a  penny,  but  it  was 
afterwards  discovered  that  his  private  charities  exceeded 
many  more  ostentatious  ones,  and  the  word  "  miserly  " 
was  changed  to  "  peculiar."  When  times  grew  pros- 
perous again,  the  workmen,  whose  families  had  been  so 
quietly  served,  clubbed  together,  got  the  teapot,  and  left 
it  at  Mr.  Podgers'  door  one  Christmas  Eve.  But  the 
old  gentleman  never  saw  it ;  his  dinner  had  been  too 
much  for  him,  and  apoplexy  took  him  off  that  very 
afternoon. 

In  the  midst  of  her  grief  ]\L*s.  Podgers  was  surprised, 
touched  and  troubled  by  this  revelation,  for  she  had 
known  nothing  of  the  affair  till  the  teapot  came.  Woman- 
like, she  felt  great  remorse  for  Avliat  now  seemed  like 
blindness  and  ingratitude ;  she  fancied  she  owed  him 
some  atonement,  and  remembering  how  often  he  had 
expressed  a  hope  that  she  wouldn't  marry  again  after  he 
was  gone,  she  resolved  to  gratify  him.  The  buxom 
widow  had  had  many  opportunities  of  putting  off  her 
weeds,  but  she  had  refused  all  offers  without  regret  till 
now.  The  teapot  reminded  her  of  Podgers  and  her  vow  ; 
and  though  her  heart  rebelled,  she  thought  it  her  duty  to 
check  the  ansv/er  that  sprung  to  her  lips,  and  slowly,  but 
decidedly,  replied, — 

"  Pm  truly  grateful  to  you,  'Rusalem,  but  I  couldn't 
do  it.  Don't  think  you'd  ever  be  a  trial,  for  you're  the 
last  man  to  be  that  to  any  woman.  It's  a  feeling  I  have 
that  it  w^ouldn't  be  kind  to  Podgers.  I  can't  forget  how 
much  I  owe  him,  how  much  I  wronged  him,  and  how 
much   I  can    please   him   by  staying  as  I  am,   for   his 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  1 59 

frequent  words  were,  '  Keep  the  property  together,  and 
don't  many,  Jane.'" 

"  Very  well,  mum,  then  we'll  let  it  drop,  and  fall  back 
into  the  old  ways.  Don't  fret  yourself  about  it,  I  shall 
bear  up,  and  — "  there  Mr.  'Rusalem's  voice  gave  out, 
and  he  sat  frowning  at  the  lire,  bent  on  bearing  up  man- 
fully, though  it  was  very  hard  to  find  that  Podgers  dead 
as  well  as  Podgers  living  was  to  keep  from  him  the  hap- 
piness he  had  waited  for  so  long.  His  altered  face  and 
broken  voice  were  almost  too  much  for  Mrs.  P.,  and  she 
found  it  necessary  to  confirm  her  resolution  by  telling  it. 
Laying  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  she  pointed  to  the  tea- 
pot with  the  other,  saying  gently,  — 

"  The  day  that  came  and  I  found  out  how  good  he 
was,  too  late  to  beg  his  pardon  and  love  him  for  it,  I 
said  to  myself,  '  Pll  be  true  to  Podgers  till  I  die,  because 
that's  all  I  can  do  now  to  show  my  repentance  and  re- 
spect.' But  for  that  feeling  and  that  promise  I  couldn't 
say  No  to  you,  'Rusalem,  for  you've  been  my  best  friend 
all  these  years,  and  I'll  be  yours  all  my  life,  though  I 
can't  be  anything  else,  my  dear." 

For  the  first  time  since  its  arrival,  the  mention  of  the 
teapot  did  not  produce  the  accustomed  demonstration 
from  Mr.  'Rusalem.  On  the  contrary,  he  looked  at  it 
with  a  momentary  expression  of  indignation  and  disgust, 
strongly  suggestive  of  an  insane  desire  to  cast  the  pre- 
cious relic  on  the  floor  and  trample  on  it.  If  any  such 
temptation  did  assail  him,  he  promptly  curbed  it,  and 
looked  about  the  room  with  a  forlorn  air,  that  made 
Mrs.  Podgers  hate  herself,  as  he  meekly  answered,  — 

"I'm  obliged   to   you,   mum;    the-  feeling    does   you 


l6o  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE  STORIES. 

honor.  Don't  mind  me,  it's  rather  a  blow,  but  I'll  be 
up  again  directly." 

He  retired  behind  his  paper  as  he  spoke,  and  Mrs. 
Podgers  spoilt  her  knitting  in  respectful  silence,  till  Mr. 
'Rusalem  began  to  read  aloud  as  usual,  to  assure  her  that 
in  spite  of  the  blow  he  was  up  again. 

In  the  gray  da^vn  the  worthy  gentleman  was  roused 
from  his  slumbers,  by  a  strange  voice  whispering  shrilly 
in  his  ear,  — 

"  I  say,  there's  two  of  em.     Ain't  it  jolly?  " 

Starting  up,  he  beheld  a  comical  little  goblin  standing 
at  his  bedside,  with  a  rapturous  expression  of  counte- 
nance, and  a  paii-  of  long  gray  stockings  in  its  hands. 
Both  Avere  heaping  full,  but  one  was  evidently  meant  for 
Mr.  'Rusalem,  for  every  wish,  whim  and  fancy  of  his 
had  been  guessed,  and  gratified  in  a  way  that  touched 
him  to  the  heart.  If  it  Avere  not  indecorous  to  invade 
the  privacy  of  a  gentleman's  apartment,  I  could  describe 
how  there  were  two  boys  in  the  big  bed  that  morning ; 
how  the  old  boy  revelled  in  the  treasures  of  his  stocking 
as  heartily  as  the  young  one  ;  how  they  laughed  and 
exclaimed,  pulled  each  others  nightcaps  off,  and  had  a 
regular  pillow  fight ;  how  little  Joe  was  got  into  his  new 
clothes,  and  strutted  like  a  small  peacock  in  them  ;  how 
Mr.  'Rusalem  made  himself  splendid  in  his  Sunday  best, 
and  spent  ten  good  minutes  in  tying  the  fine  cravat 
somebody  had  hemmed  for  him.  But  lest  it  should  be 
thought  improper,  I  will  merely  say,  that  nowhere  in  the 
city  did  the  sun  shine  on  happier  faces  than  these  two 
showed  Mrs.  Podgers,  as  Mr.  'Rusalem  came  in  with 
Joe  on  his  shoulder,  both  washing  her  a  merry  Christ- 


MRS.    PODGERS     TEAPOT. 


l6] 


mas,  as  heartily  as  if  this  were  the  first  the  workl  had 
ever  seen. 

Mrs.  Podgers  was  as  brisk  and  blithe  as  they,  though 
she  must  have  sat  up  one-half  the  night  making  presents 
for  them,  and  laid  awake  the  other  half  making  plans 
for  the  day.  As  soon  as  she  had  hugged  Joe,  toasted 
him  red,  and  heaped  his  plate  with  everything  on  the 
table,  she  told  them  the  order  of  performances. 

"  As  soon  as  ever  you  can't  eat  any  more  you  must 
order  home  the  tree,  'Rusalem,  apd  then  go  with  Joe  to 
invite  the  party,  while  I  see  to  dinner,  and  dress  up  the 
pine  as  well  as  I  can  in  such  a  hurry." 

»  Yes,  mum,"  answered  Mr.  'Rusalem  with  alacrity ; 
though  how  she  was  going  to  do  her  part  was  not  clear 
to  him.  But  he  believed  her  capable  of  working  any 
miracle  within  the  power  of  mortal  woman  ;  and  having 
plans  of  his  own,  he  soon  trudged  away  with  Joe  pranc- 
ing at  his  side,  so  like  the  lost  Neddy,  in  the  little  cap 
an°d  coat,  that  Mrs.  Podgers  forgot  her  party  to  stand 
watching  them  down  the  crowded  street,  with  eyes  that 
saw  very  dimly  w^hcn  they  looked  away  again. 

Never  mind  how  she  did  it,  the  miracle  was  wrought, 
for  Mrs.  Podgers  and  her  maid  Betsey  fell  to  work  with 
a  will,  and  when  women  set  their  hearts  on  anything  it 
is  a  knoA\Ti  fact  that  they  seldom  fail  to  accomplish  it. 
By  noon  everything  was  ready,  the  tree  waiting  in  the 
best  parlor,  the  dinner  smoking  on  the  table,  and  Mrs. 
Podgers  at  the  window  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  her 
comhig  guests.  A  last  thought  struck  her  as  she  stood 
waiting.  There  was  but  one  high  chair  in  the  house, 
and  the  big  ones  would  be  doubtless  too  low  for  the  little 
l.eoplc.     Bent  on   making  them  as  comfortable  as   her 


II 


102  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

motherly  heart  could  desire,  she  set  about  mendiug  the 
matter  by  bringing  out  from  Podgers'  bookcase  several 
fat  old  ledgers,  and  arranging  them  in  the  chairs.  While 
busily  dusting  one  of  these  it  slipped  from  her  hands, 
and  as  it  fell  a  paper  fluttered  from  among  the  leaves. 
She  picked  it  up,  looked  at  it,  dropped  her  duster,  and 
became  absorbed.  It  was  a  small  sheet  filled  with  figures, 
and  here  and  there  short  memoranda,  —  not  an  interest- 
ing looking  document  in  the  least ;  but  Mrs.  Podgers 
stood  like  a  statue  till  she  had  read  it  several  times  ;  then 
she  caught  her  breath,  clapped  her  hands,  laughed  and 
cried  together,  and  put  the  climax  to  her  extraordinary 
behavior  by  running  across  the  room  and  embracing  the 
astonished  little  teapot. 

How  long  she  would  have  gone  on  in  this  wild  manner 
it  is  impossible  to  say,  had  not  the  the  jingle  of  bells,  and 
a  shrill,  small  cheer  announced  that  the  party  had  arrived. 
Whisking  the  mysterious  paper  into  her  pocket,  and 
dressing  her  agitated  countenance  in  smiles,  she  hastened 
to  open  the  door  before  chilly  fingers  could  find  the  bell. 

Such  a  merry  load  as  that  was !  Such  happy  faces 
looking  out  from  under  the  faded  hoods  and  caps  !  Such 
a  hearty  "  Hurrah  for  Mrs.  Podgers ! "  greeted  her 
straight  from  the  grateful  hearts  that  loved  her  the 
instant  she  appeared !  And  what  a  perfect  Santa  Claus 
Mr.  'Rusalem  made,  with  his  sleigh  full  of  bundles  as 
well  as  children,  his  face  full  of  sunshine,  his  arms  full 
of  babies,  whom  he  held  up  that  they  too  might  clap 
their  little  hands,  while  he  hurrahed  with  all  his  might. 
I  really  don't  think  reindeers,  or  the  immemorial  white 
beard  and  fur  cap,  could  have  improved  the  picture  ;  and 
the  neighbors  were  of  my  opinion,  I  suspect. 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  1 63 

It  was  good  to  sec  Mrs.  Podgers  welcome  them  all  in 
a  way  that  gave  the  shyest  courage,  made  the  poorest 
forget  patched  jackets  or  ragged  go\vTis,  and  caused  them 
ail  to  feel  that  this  indeed  Avas  merry  Christmas.  It 
was  better  still  to  see  Mrs.  Podgers  preside  over  the 
table,  dealing  out  turkey  and  pudding  with  such  a  boun- 
teous hand,  that  the  small  feasters  often  paused,  in 
sheer  astonishment,  at  the  abundance  before  them, 
and  then  fell  to  again  with  renewed  energy,  as  if  they 
feared  to  wake  up  presently  and  find  the  whole  a  dream. 
It  was  best  of  all  to  see  Mrs.  Podgers  gather  them 
about  her  afterwards,  hearing  their  little  stories,  learning 
theu'  many  wants,  and  winning  their  young  hearts  by 
such  gentle  wiles  that  they  soon  regarded  her  as  some 
beautiful,  benignant  fairy,  who  had  led  them  from  a  cold, 
dark  world  into  the  land  of  innocent  delights  they  had 
imagined,  longed  for,  yet  never  hoped  to  find. 

Then  came  the  tree,  hung  thick  with  bonbons,  fruit 
and  toys,  gay  mittens  and  tippets,  comfortable  socks  and 
hoods,  and,  lower  do\vn,  more  substantial  but  less  shoA\y 
gifts  ;  for  Mrs  Podgers  had  nearly  exhausted  the  Dorcas 
basket  that  fortunately  chanced  to  be  with  her.  just  then. 
There  was  no  time  for  candles,  but,  as  if  he  understood 
the  matter  and  was  bent  on  supplying  all  deficiencies,  the 
sun  shone  gloriously  on  the  little  tree,  and  made  it  doubly 
splendid  in  the  children's  eyes. 

It  would  have  touched  the  hardest  heart  to  watch  the 
poor  little  creatures,  as  they  trooped  in  and  stood  about 
the  wonderful  tree.  Some  seemed  ready  to  go  wild  with 
delight,  some  folded  their  hands  and  sighed  with  solemn 
satisfaction,  others  looked  as  if  bewilderod  by  such 
unwonted  and  unexpected  good   fortune  ;  and  when  IMr. 


164  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

'Rusalem  told  them  how  this  fruitful  tree  had  sprung  up 
from  their  loving  playmate's  broken  bough,  little  Joe  hid 
his  face  in  Mrs.  Podgers'  gown,  and  could  find  no  vent 
for  his  great  happiness  but  tears.  It  was  not  a  large 
tree,  but  it  took  a  long  while  to  strip  it ;  and  even  when 
the  last  gilded  nut  was  gone  the  children  still  lingered 
about  it,  as  if  they  regarded  it  with  affection  as  a  gener- 
ous benefactor,  and  were  loath  to  leave  it. 

Next  they  had  a  splendid  round  of  games.  I  don't 
know  what  will  be  thought  of  the  worthy  souls,  but  Mr. 
'Rusalem  and  Mrs.  Podgers  played  with  all  their  might. 
Perhaps  the  reason  why  he  gave  himself  up  so  freely  to 
the  spirit  of  the  hour  was,  that  his  disappointment  was 
very  heavy ;  and,  according  to  his  simple  philosophy,  it 
was  wiser  to  soothe  his  wounded  heart  and  cheer  his  sad 
spirit  with  the  sweet  society  of  little  children,  than  to 
curse  fate  and  reproach  a  woman.  What  was  Mrs. 
Podgers'  reason  it  is  impossible  to  tell,  but  she  behaved 
as  if  some  secret  satisfaction  filled  her  heart  so  full  that 
she  was  glad  to  let  it  bubble  over  in  this  harmless 
fashion.  Both  tried  to  be  children  again,  and  both  suc- 
ceeded capitally,  though  now  and  then  their  hearts  got 
the  better  of  them.  When  Mr.  'Rusalem  was  blinded  he 
tossed  all  the  little  lads  up  to  the  ceiling  when  he  caught 
them,  kissed  all  the  little  girls,  and,  that  no  one  might 
feel  slighted,  kissed  Mrs.  Podgers  also.  When  they 
played  "  Open  the  gates,"  and  the  two  grown  people 
stood  hand  in  hand  while  the  mirthful  troops  marched 
under  the  tall  arch,  Mrs.  Podgers  never  once  looked  Mr. 
'Rusalem  in  the  face,  but  blushed  and  kept  her  eyes  on 
the  ground,  as  if  she  was  a  bashful  girl  playing  games 
with  some  boyish  sweetheart.     The  children  saw  nothing 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  165 

of  all  this,  and,  bless  tlieir  innocent  little  hearts !  they 
wouldn't  have  understood  it  if  they  had  ;  but  it  was  per- 
fectly evident  that  the  gray-headed  gentleman  and  the 
mature  matron  had  forgotten  all  about  their  years,  and 
were  in  their  teens  again  ;  for  true  love  is  gifted  with 
immortal  youth. 

Wlien  weary  with  romping,  they  gathered  round  the 
fire,  and  Mr.  'Rusalem  told  fairy  tales,  as  if  his  dull 
ledgers  had  preserved  these  childish  romances  like  flowers 
between  their  leaves,  and  kept  them  fresh  in  spite  of 
time.  Mrs.  Podgers  sung  to  them,  and  made  them  sing 
with  her,  till  passers-by  smiled  and  lingered  as  the  child- 
ish voices  reached  them,  and,  looking  through  the  screen 
of  roses,  they  caught  glimpses  of  the  happy  little  group 
singing  in  the  ruddy  circle  of  that  Christmas  fire. 

It  was  a  very  humble  festival,  but  with  these  poor 
guests  came  also  Love  and  Charity,  Innocence  and  Joy, 

the  strong,  sweet  spirits  who  bless  and  beautify  the 

world  ;  and  though  eclipsed  by  many  more  splendid  cele- 
brations, I  think  the  day  was  the  better  and  the  blither 
for  Mrs.  Podgers'  little  party. 

When  it  was  all  over,  —  the  grateful  farewells  and 
riotous  cheers  as  the  children  were  carried  home,  the 
twilight  raptures  of  Joe,  and  the  long  lullaby  before  he 
eould  extinguish  himself  enough  to  go  to  sleep,  the  con- 
gratulations and  clearing  up,  —  then  Mr.  'Rusalem  and 
Mrs.  Podgers  sat  down  to  tea.  But  no  sooner  were 
they  alone  together  than  Mrs.  P.  fell  into  a  curious  flut- 
ter, and  did  the  oddest  things.  She  gave  Mr.  'Rusalem 
warm  water  instead  of  tea,  passed  the  slop-bowl  when 
he  asked  for  the  sugar-basin,  burnt  her  fingers,  laid  her 
handkerchief  on  the  tray,  and  tried  to  put  her  fork  in  her 


1 66  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

pocket,  and  went  on  in  such  a  way  that  Mr.  'Rusalem 
began  to  fear  the  day  had  been  too  much  for  her. 

"You're  tired,  mum,"  he  said  presently,  hearing  her 
sigh. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  she  answered  briskly,  opening  the  teapot 
to  add  more  water,  but  seemed  to  forget  her  purpose, 
and  sat  looking  into  its  steamy  depths  as  if  in  search  of 
something.  If  it  was  courage,  she  certainly  found  it, 
for  all  of  a  sudden  she  handed  the  mysterious  paper  to 
Mr.  'Rusalem,  saying  solemnly,  — 

"  Read  that,  and  tell  me  if  it's  true." 

He  took  it  readily,  put  on  his  glasses,  and  bent  to 
examine  it,  but  gave  a  start  that  caused  the  spectacles  to 
fly  off  his  nose,  as  he  exclaimed,  — 

"  Lord  bless  me,  he  said  he'd  burnt  it !  " 

"  Then  it  is  true  ?  Don't  deny  it,  'Rusalem  ;  it's  no 
use,  for  I've  caught  you  at  last !  "  and  in  her  excitement 
Mrs.  Podgers  slapped  down  the  teapot-lid  as  if  she  had 
got  him  inside. 

"  I  assure  you,  mum,  he  promised  to  burn  it.  He 
made  me  ^^Tite  down  the  sums,  and  so  on,  to  satisfy  him 
that  I  hadn't  took  more'n  my  share  of  the  profits.  It 
was  my  own  ;  and  though  he  called  me  a  fool  he  let  me 
do  as  I  liked,  but  I  never  thought  it  would  come  up  again 
like  this,  mum." 

"  Of  course  you  didn't,  for  it  was  left  in  one  of  the  old 
ledgers  we  had  dowTi  for  the  dears  to  sit  on.  I  found  it, 
I  read  it,  and  I  understood  it  in  a  minute.  It  was  you 
who  helped  the  mill-people,  and  then  hid  behind  Podgers 
because  you  didn't  want  to  be  thanked.  When  he  died, 
and  the  teapot  came,  you  saw  how  proud  I  was  of  it,  — 
how  I  took  comfort  in  thinking  he  did  the  kind  things  ; 


MRS.    PODGERS'    TEAPOT.  1 67 

and  for  my  sake  you  never  told  the  truth,  not  even  last 
night,  when  a  word  would  have  done  so  much.  Oh, 
'Rusalem,  how  could  you  deceive  me  all  these  years  ?  " 

If  Mr.  'Rusalem  had  desired  to  answer  he  would  have 
had  no  chance  ;  for  Mrs.  Podgers  was  too  much  in  earn- 
est to  let  any  one  speak  but  herself,  and  hurried  on,  fear- 
ing that  her  emotion  would  get  the  better  of  her  before 
she  had  had  her  say. 

''  It  was  like  you,  but  it  wasn't  right,  for  you've  robbed 
yourself  of  the  love  and  honor  that  was  your  due  ;  you've 
let  people  praise  Podgers  when  he  didn't  deserve  it ; 
you've  seen  me  take  pride  in  this  because  I  thought  he'd 
earned  it ;  and  you've  only  laughed  at  it  all  as  if  it  was 
a  fine  joke  to  do  generous  things  and  never  take  the 
credit  of  'em.  Now  I  know  what  bank  you've  laid  up 
your  hard  earnings  in,  and  what  a  blessed  interest  you'll 
get  by  and  by.  Truly  they  who  give  to  the  poor  lend  to 
the  Lord,  —  and  you  don't  need  to  have  the  good  words 
written  on  silver,  for  you  keep  'em  always  in  your 
heart." 

Mrs.  Podgers  stojDped  a  minute  for  breath,  and  felt 
that  she  was  going  very  fast ;  for  'Rusalem  sat  looking 
at  her  with  so  much  humility,  love,  and  longing  in  his 
honest  face,  that  she  knew  it  would  be  all  up  with  her 
directly. 

"  You  saw  how  I  gi-Ieved  for  Neddy,  and  gave  me  this 
motherless  boy  to  fill  his  place  ;  you  knew  I  wanted  some 
one  to  make  the  house  seem  like  home  again,  and  you 
offered  me  the  lovingest  heart  that  ever  was.  You 
found  I  wasn't  satisfied  to  lead  such  a  selfish  life,  arid 
you  showed  me  how  beautiful  Charity  could  make  it ; 
you  taught  me  to  find  my  duty  waiting  for  me  at  my  o^vll 


l68  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

door  ;  and,  putting  by  your  own  trouble,  you've  helped 
to  make  this  day  the  happiest  Christmas  of  my  life." 

If  it  hadn't  been  for  tlie  teapot  Mrs.  Podgers  would 
have  given  out  here  ;  but  her  hand  was  still  on  it,  and 
something  in  the  touch  gave  her  steadiness  for  one  more 
burst. 

"I  loved  the  little  teapot  for  Podgers'  sake;  now  I 
love  it  a  hundred  times  more  for  yours,  because  you've 
brought  its  lesson  home  to  me  in  a  way  I  never  can  for- 
get, and  have  been  my  benefactor  as  well  as  theirs,  who 
shall  soon  know  you  as  well  as  I  do.  'Rusalem,  there's 
only  one  way  in  which  I  can  thank  you  for  all  tliis,  and 
I  do  it  with  my  whole  heart.  Last  night  you  asked  me 
for  something,  and  I  thought  I  couldn't  give  it  to  you. 
Now  I'm  sure  I  can,  and  if  you  still  want  it  why " 

Mrs.  Podgers  never  finished  that  sentence  ;  for,  with 
an  impetuosity  surprising  in  one  of  his  age  and  figure, 
Mr.  'Rusalem  sprang  out  of  his  chair  and  took  her  in  his 
arms,  saying  tenderly,  in  a  voice  almost  inaudible^ 
between  a  conflicting  choke  and  chuckle,  — 

"  My  dear  !  my  dear  !  God  bless  you  !  " 


MY    CONTRABAND. 

DOCTOR  FRANCE  came  in  as  I  sat  sewing  up  the 
rents  in  an  old  shirt,  that  Tom  might  go  tidily  to  his 
grave.  New  shirts  were  needed  for  the  living,  and  there 
was  no  wife  or  mother  to  "  dress  him  handsome  Avhen 
he  went  to  meet  the  Lord,"  as  one  woman  said,  describ- 
ing the  fine  funeral  she  had  pinched  herself  to  give 
her  son. 

"  Miss  Dane,  I'm  in  a  quandary,"  began  the  Doctor, 
with  that  expression  of  countenance  Avhich  says  as  plainly 
as  words,  "  I  want  to  ask  a  favor,  but  I  wish  you'd  save 
me  the  trouble." 

*'  Can  I  help  you  out  of  it?" 

"  Faith !  I  don't  like  to  propose  it,  but  you  certainly 
can,  if  you  please." 

"  Then  name  it,  I  beg." 

"  You  see  a  Reb  has  just  been  brought  in  crazy  with 
typhoid ;  a  bad  case  every  way ;  a  drunken,  rascally 
little  captain  somebody  took  the  trouble  to  capture,  but 
w^hom  nobody  wants  to  take  the  trouble  to  cure.  The 
wards  are  full,  the  ladies  worked  to  death,  and  willing  to 
be  for  our  o-vvn  boys,  but  rather  slow  to  risk  their  lives 
for  a  Reb.  Now,  you've  had  the  fever,  you  like  queer 
patients,  your  mate  will  see  to  your  ward  for  a  while,  and 

(169) 


170  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

I  will  find  you  a  good  attendant.  The  fellow  w^on't  la.-^t 
long,  I  fancy  ;  but  lie  can't  die  without  some  sort  of  care, 
you  know.  I've  put  him  in  the  fourth  story  of  the  west 
wing,  away  from  the  rest.  It  is  airy,  quiet,  and  com- 
fortable there.  I'm  on  that  ward,  and  will  do  my  best 
for  you  in  every  Avay.     Now,  then,  will  you  go  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  will,  out  of  perversity,  if  not  common 
charity  ;  for  some  of  these  people  think  that  because  I'm 
an  abolitionist  I  am  also  a  heathen,  and  I  should  rather 
like  to  show  them  that,  though  I  cannot  quite  love  my 
enemies,  I  am  willing  to  take  care  of  them." 

"Very  good;  I  thought  you'd  go;  and  speaking  of 
abolition  reminds  me  that  you  can  have  a  contraband  for 
servant,  if  you  like.  It  is  that  fine  mulatto  fellow  who 
was  found  burying  his  rebel  master  after  the  fight,  and, 
being  badly  cut  over  the  head,  our  boys  brought  him 
along.     "Will  you  have  him  ?  " 

"  By. all  means,  —  for  I'll  stand  to  my  guns  on  that 
point,  as  on  the  other ;  these  black  boys  are  far  more 
faithful  and  handy  than  some  of  the  Avhite  scamps  given 
me  to  serve,  instead  of  being  served  by.  But  is  this  man 
well  enough  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  that  sort  of  w^ork,  and  I  think  you'll  like 
him.  He  must  have  been  a  handsome  fellow  before  he 
got  his  face  slashed  ;  not  much  darker  than  myself ;  his 
master's  son,  I  dare  say,  and  the  white  blood  makes  him 
rather  high  and  haughty  about  some  things.  He  w^as  in 
a  bad  w^ay  when  he  came  in,  but  vowed  he'd  die  in  the 
street  rather  than  turn  in  with  the  black  feUows  below  ; 
so  I  put  him  up  in  the  west  wdng,  to  be  out  of  the  way, 
and  he's  seen  to  the  captain  all  the  morning.  When  can 
you  go  up  ?  " 


MY    CONTRABAND.  I7I 

"  As  soon  as  Tom  is  laid  out,  SkiDiier  moved,  Hay- 
wood washed,  Marble  dressed,  Charley  rubbed.  Downs 
taken  up,  Upham  laid  down,  and  the  whole  forty  fed." 

We  both  laughed,  though  the  Doctor  was  on  his  way 
to  the  dead-house  and  I  held  a  shroud  on  my  lap.  But 
in  a  hospital  one  learns  that  cheerfulness  is  one's  salva- 
tion ;  for,  in  an  atmosphere  of  suffering  and  death,  heav- 
iness of  heart  would  soon  paralyze  usefulness  of  hand,  if 
the  blessed  gift  of  smiles  had  been  denied  us. 

In  an  hour  I  took  possession  of  my  new  charge,  find- 
ing a  dissipated-looking  boy  of  nineteen  or  tAventy  raving 
in  the  solitary  little  room,  with  no  one  near  him  but 
the  contraband  in  the  room  adjoining.  Feeling  decidedly 
more  interest  in  the  black  man  than  in  the  white,  yet 
remembering  the  Doctor's  hint  of  his  being  "  high  and 
haughty,"  I  glanced  furtively  at  him  as  I  scattered 
chloride  of  lime  about  the  room  to  purify  the  air,  and 
settled  matters  to  suit  myself.  I  had  seen  many  contra- 
bands, but  never  one  so  attractive  as  this.  All  colored 
men  are  called  "  boys,"  even  if  their  heads  are  white  ; 
this  boy  was  five-and-twenty  at  least,  strong-limbed  and 
manly,  and  had  the  look  of  one  who  never  had  been 
cowed  by  abuse  or  worn  with  oppressive  labor.  He  sat 
on  his  bed  doing  nothing ;  no  book,  no  pipe,  no  pen  or 
paper  anywhere  appeared,  yet  anything  less  indolent  or 
listless  than  his  attitude  and  expression  I  never  saw.  Erect 
he  sat,  with  a  hand  on  either  knee,  and  eyes  fixed  on  the 
bare  wall  opposite,  so  rapt  in  some  absorbing  thought  as 
to  be  unconscious  of  my  presence,  though  the  door  stood 
wide  open  and  my  movements  were  by  no  means  noise- 
less. His  face  was  half  averted,  but  I  instantly  approved 
the  Doctor's  taste,  for  the  profile  which  I  saw  possessed 


172  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

all  the  attributes  of  comeliness  belonging  to  his  mixed 
race.  He  was  more  quadroon  than  mulatto,  with  Saxon 
features,  Spanish  complexion  darkened  by  exposure, 
color  in  lips  and  cheek,  waving  hair,  and  an  eye  full  of 
the  passionate  melancholy  which  in  such  men  always 
seems  to  utter  a  mute  protest  against  the  broken  law 
that  doomed  them  at  their  birth.  What  could  he  be 
thinking  of?  The  sick  boy  cursed  and  raved,  I  rustled 
to  and  fro,  steps  passed  the  door,  bells  rang,  and  the 
steady  rumble  of  army-wagons  came  up  from  the  street, 
still  he  never  stirred.  I  had  seen  colored  people  in  what 
they  call  "  the  black  sulks,"  when,  for  days,  they  neither 
smiled  nor  spoke,  and  scarcely  ate.  But  this  was  some- 
thing more  than  that ;  for  the  man  was  not  dully  brood- 
ing over  some  small  grievance  ;  he  seemed  to  see  an 
all-absorbing  fact  or  fancy  recorded  on  the  wall,  which 
was  a  blank  to  me.  I  wondered  if  it  were  some  deep 
wrong  or  sorrow,  kept  alive  by  memory  and  impotent 
regret ;  if  he  mourned  for  the  dead  master  to  whom  he 
had  been  faithful  to  the  end ;  or  if  the  liberty  now  his 
were  robbed  of  half  its  sweetness  by  the  knowledge  that 
some  one  near  and  dear  to  him  still  languished  in  the 
hell  from  which  he  had  escaped.  My  heart  quite  warmed 
to  him  at  that  idea  ;  I  wanted  to  know  and  comfort  him  ; 
and,  following  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  I  went  in  and 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

In  an  instant  the  man  vanished  and  the  slave  appeared. 
Freedom  was  too  new  a  boon  to  have  wrought  its 
blessed  changes  yet ;  and  as  he  started  up,  with  his 
hand  at  his  temple,  and  an  obsequious  "  Yes,  Missis," 
any  romance  that  had  gathered  round  him  fled  away, 
leaving    the    saddest   of    all    sad  facts   in   living   guise 


MY    CONTRABAND.  1 73 

before  me.  Not  ouly  did  the  mauhood  seem  to  die  out 
of  him,  but  the  comeliness  that  first  attracted  me  ;  for, 
as  he  turned,  I  saw  the  ghastly  wound  that  had  laid  open 
elieek  and  forehead.  Being  partly  healed,  it  was  no 
longer  bandaged,  but  held  together  with  strips  of  that 
transparent  plaster  which  I  never  see  without  a  shiver, 
and  swift  recollections  of  the  scenes  with  Avhich  it  is 
associated  in  my  mind.  Part  of  his  black  hair  had  been 
shorn  away,  and  one  eye  Avas  nearly  closed  ;  pain  so  dis- 
torted, and  the  cruel  sabre-cut  so  marred  that  portion  of 
his  face,  that,  when  I  saw  it,  I  felt  as  if  a  fine  medal 
had  been  suddenly  reversed,  showing  me  a  far  more 
striking  type  of  human  suffering  and  wrong  than  Michael 
Angelo's  bronze  prisoner.  By  one  of  those  inexplicable 
processes  that  often  teach  us  how  little  we  understand 
ourselves,  my  purpose  was  suddenly  changed  ;  and,  though 
I  went  in  to  offer  comfort  as  a  friend,  I  merely  gave  an 
order  as  a  mistress. 

"  WiU  you  open  these  windows?  this  man  needs  more 
air." 

He  obeyed  at  once,  and,  as  he  slowly  urged  up  the 
unruly  sash,  the  handsome  profile  was  again  turned 
toward  me,  and  again  I  was  possessed  by  my  first  impres- 
sion so  strongly  that  I  involuntarily  said,  — 

"  Thank  you." 

Perhaps  it  was  fancy,  but  I  thought  that  in  the  look 
of  mingled  surprise  and  something  like  reproach  Avhich 
he  gave  mc,  there  Avas  also  a  trace  of  grateful  pleasure. 
But  he  said,  in  that  tone  of  spiritless  humility  these  poor 
souls  learn  so  soon,  — 

"  I  isn't  a  white  man.  Missis,  I'se  a  contraband." 


174  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it ;  but  a  contraband  is  a  free  man, 
and  I  heartily  congratulate  you." 

He  liked  that ;  his  ftice  shone,  he  squared  his  shoulders, 
lifted  his  head,  and  looked  me  full  in  the  eye  with  a 
brisk,  — 

"  Thank  ye,  Missis  ;  anything  more  to  do  fer  yer?" 

"  Doctor  Franck  thought  you  would  help  me  with  this 
man,  as  there  are  many  patients  and  few  nurses  or 
attendants.     Have  you  had  the  fever?" 

"No,  Missis." 

"  They  should  have  thought  of  that  when  they  put 
him  here  ;  wounds  and  fevers  should  not  be  together, 
m  try  to  get  you  moved." 

He  laughed  a  sudden  laugh :  if  he  had  been  a  white 
man,  I  should  have  called  it  scornful ;  as  he  was  a  few 
shades  darker  than  myself,  I  suppose  it  must  be  consid- 
ered an  insolent,  or  at  least  anunmannerly  one. 

"  It  don't  matter,  Missis.  I'd  rather  be  up  here  with 
the  fever  than  down  with  those  niggers ;  and  there  isn't 
no  other  place  fer  me." 

Poor  fellow  !  that  was  true.  No  ward  in  all  the  hos- 
pital would  take  him  in  to  lie  side  by  side  with  the  most 
miserable  white  wreck  there.  Like  the  bat  in  -^sop's 
fable,  he  belonged  to  neither  race  ;  and  the  pride  of  one 
and  the  helplessness  of  the  other,  kept  him  hovering 
alone  in  the  twilight  a  great  sin  has  brought  to  over- 
shadow the  whole  land. 

"You  shall  stay,  then  ;  for  I  would  far  rather  have 
you  than  my  lazy  Jack.  But  are  you  well  and  strong 
enough  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I'll  do,  Missis." 

He  spoke  with  a  passive  sort  of  acquiescence,  —  as  if 


MV    CONTRABAND. 


175 


it  (litl  not  much  matter  if  he  were  not  able,  aud  no  one 
would  particularly  rejoice  if  he  were. 

''  Yes,  I  think  you  will.  By  what  name  shall  I 
call  you?" 

"Bob,  Missis." 

Every  woman  has  her  pet  whim  ;  one  of  mine  was 
to  teach  the  men  self-respect  by  treating  them  respect- 
fully. Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  would  pass,  when  lads 
rejoiced  in  those  familiar  abbreviations ;  but  to  address 
men  often  old  enough  to  be  my  father  in  that  style  did 
not  suit  my  old-fashioned  ideas  of  propriety.  This  "Bob" 
would  never  do  ;  I  should  have  found  it  as  easy  to  call 
the  chaplain  "Gus"  as  my  tragical-looking  contraband 
by  a  title  so  strongly  associated  with  the  tail  of  a  kite. 

"What  is  your  other  name?"  I  asked.  "I  like  to 
call  my  attendants  by  their  last  names  rather  than  by 
their  first." 

"  I'se  got  no  other.  Missis  ;  we  has  our  masters'  names, 
or  do  without.  Mine's  dead,  and  I  won't  have  anything 
of  his  'bout  me." 

"  Well,  I'll  call  you  Eobert,  then,  and  you  may  fill  this 
pitcher  for  me,  if  you  will  be  so  kind." 

He  went ;  but,  through  all  the  tame  obedience  years  of 
servitude  had  taught  him,  I  could  see  that  the  proud 
spirit  his  father  gave  him  was  not  yet  subdued,  for  the 
look  and  gesture  with  which  he  repudiated  his  master's 
name  were  a  more  effective  declaration  of  independence 
than  any  Fourth-of-July  orator  could  have  prepared. 

AYe  spent  a  curious  week  together.  Robert  seldom 
left  his  room,  except  upon  my  errands  ;  and  I  was  a 
prisoner  all  day,  often  all  night,  by  the  bedside  of  the 
rebel.     The  fever  burned  itself  rapidly  away,  for  there 


176  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

seemed  little  vitality  to  feed  it  in  the  feeble  frame  of  this 
old  young  man,  whose  life  had  been  none  of  the  most 
righteous,  judging  from  the  revelations  made  by  his 
unconscious  lips  ;  since  more  than  once  Robert  authorita- 
tively silenced  him,  when  my  gentler  bushings  were  of 
no  avail,  and  blasphemous  wanderings  or  ribald  camp- 
songs  made  my  cheeks  burn  and  Robert's  face  assume  an 
aspect  of  disgust.  The  captain  was  a  gentleman  in  the 
world's  eye,  but  the  contraband  was  the  gentleman  in 
mine ;  —  I  was  a  fanatic,  and  that  accounts  for  such 
depravity  of  taste,  I  hope.  I  never  asked  Robert  of 
himself,  feeling  that  somewhere  there  Avas  a  spot  still  too 
sore  to  bear  the  lightest  touch  ;  but,  from  his  language, 
manner,  and  intelligence,  I  inferred  that  his  color  had 
procured  for  him  the  feAv  advantages  within  the  reach  Of 
a  quick-witted,  kindly-treated  slave.  Silent,  grave,  and 
thoughtful,  but  most  serviceable,  was  my  contraband ; 
glad  of  the  books  I  brought  him,  faithful  in  the  perform- 
ance of  the  duties  I  assigned  to  him,  grateful  for  the 
friendliness  I  could  not  but  feel  and  show  toward  him. 
Often  I  longed  to  ask  what  purpose  was  so  visibly  alter- 
ing his  aspect  with  such  daily  deepening  gloom.  But  I 
never  dared,  and  no  one  else  had  cither  time  or  desire  to 
pry  into  the  past  of  this  specimen  of  one  branch  of  the 
chivalrous  "  F.  F.  Vs." 

On  the  seventh  night,  Dr.  Franck  suggested  tliat  it 
would  be  well  for  some  one,  besides  the  general  watch- 
man of  the  ward,  to  be  with  the  captain,  as  it  might  be 
his  last.  Although  the  greater  part  of  the  two  preceding 
nights  had  been  spent  there,  of  course  I  offered  to  re- 
main, —  for  there  is  a  strange  fascination  in  these  scenes, 


MY    CONTRABAND.  1 77 

which  renders  one  careless  of  fatigue  and  unconscious 
of  fear  until  the  crisis  is  past. 

"  Give  him  water  as  long  as  he  can  dfink,  and  if  he 
drops  into  a  natural  sleep,  it  may  save  him.  I'll  look  in 
at  midnight,  when  some  change  will  probably  take  place. 
Nothing  but  sleep  or  a  miracle  will  keep  him  now. 
Good-night." 

Away  went  the  Doctor ;  and,  devouring  a  whole 
mouthful  of  gapes,  I  lowered  the  lamp,  wet  the  cap- 
tain's head,  and  sat  down  on  a  hard  stool  to  begin  my 
watch.  The  captain  lay  with  his  hot,  haggard  face 
turned  toward  me,  filling  the  air  with  his  poisonous 
breath,  and  feebly  muttering,  with  lips  and  tongue  so 
parched  that  the  sanest  speech  would  have  been  difficult 
to  understand.  Robert  was  stretched  on  his  bed  in  the 
inner  room,  the  door  of  Avhicli  stood  ajar,  that  a  fresh 
draught  from "  his  open  window  might  carry  the  fever- 
fumes  away  through  mine.  I  could  just  see  a  long,  dark 
figure,  with  the  lighter  outline  of  a  face,  and,  having 
little  else  to  do  just  then,  I  fell  to  thinking  of  this  curious 
contraband,  who  evidently  prized  his  freedom  highly,  yet 
seemed  in  no  haste  to  enjoy  it.  Dr.  Franck  had  offered 
to  send  him  on  to  safer  quarters,  but  he  had  said,  "  No, 
thank  yer,  sir,  not  yet,"  and  then  had  gone  away  to  fall 
into  one  of  those  black  moods  of  his,  which  began  to 
disturb  me,  because  I  had  no  power  to  lighten  them.  As 
I  sat  listening  to  the  clocks  from  the  steeples  all  about 
us,  I  amused  myself  with  planning  Robert's  future,  as  I 
often  did  my  own,  and  had  dealt  out  to  him  a  generous 
hand  of  trumps  wherewith  to  play  this  game  of  life 
which  hitherto  had  gone  so  cruelly  against  him,  when  a 
harsh  choked  voice  called,  — 


I7S  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  Lucy !  " 

It  was  the  captain,  and  some  new  terror  seemed  to 
have  gifted  him  with  momentary  strength. 

"  Yes,  here's  Lucy,"  I  answered,  hoping  that  by  fol- 
lowing the  fancy  I  might  quiet  him,  —  for  his  face  was 
damp  with  the  clammy  moisture,  and  his  frame  shaken 
with  the  nervous  tremor  that  so  often  precedes  death. 
His  dull  eye  fixed  upon  me,  dilating  with  a  bewildered 
look  of  incredulity  and  ^vl'ath,  till  he  broke  out  fiercely,  — 

"  That's  a  lie !  she's  dead,  —  and  so's  Bob,  damn 
him !  " 

Finding  speech  a  failure,  I  began  to  sing  the  quiet 
tune  that  had  often  soothed  delirium  like  this  ;  but  hardly 
had  the  line,  — 

"  See  gentle  patience  smile  on  pain," 

passed  my  lips,  Avhen  he  clutched  me  by  the  wrist,  whis- 
pering like  one  in  mortal  fear,  — 

"  Hush !  she  used  to  sing  that  w%ay  to  Bob,  but  she 
never  would  to  me.  I  swore  I'd  whip  the  devil  out  of 
her,  and  I  did  ;  but  you  know  before  she  cut  her  throat 
she  said  she'd  haunt  me,  and  there  she  is  !  " 

He  pointed  behind  me  with  an  aspect  of  such  pale 
dismay,  that  I  involuntarily  glanced .  over  my  shoulder 
and  started  as  if  I  had  seen  a  veritable  ghost ;  for,  peer- 
ing from  the  gloom  of  that  inner  room,  I  saw  a  shadowy 
face,  with  dark  hair  all  about  it,  and  a  glimpse  of  scarlet 
at  the  throat.  An  instant  showed  me  that  it  was  only 
Robert  leaning  from  his  bed's  foot,  wrapped  in  a  gray 
army-blanket,  with  his  red  shirt  just  visible  above  it, 
and  his  long  hair  disordered-  by  sleep.  But  what  a 
strange  expression  was  on  his  face  !     The  unmarred  side 


MY    CONTRABAND.  I  79 

was  toward  me,  fixed  and  motionless  as  when  I  first 
observed  it,  —  less  absorbed  now,  but  more  intent.  His 
eye  glittered,  his  lips  were  apart  like  one  who  listened 
with  every  sense,  and  his  whole  aspect  reminded  me  of  a 
hound  to  which  some  wind  had  brought  the  scent  of 
unsuspected  prey. 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Robert?     Does  he  mean  you?" 
"  Laws,  no,  Missis  ;  they  all  own  half-a-dozen  Bobs : 
but  hearin'  my  name  woke  me  ;  that's  all." 

He  spoke  quite  naturally,  and  lay  down  again,  while 
I  returned  to  my  charge,  thinking  that  this  paroxysm 
was  probably  his  last.  But  by  another  hour  I  perceived 
a  hopeful  change  ;  for  the  tremor  had  subsided,  the  cold 
dew  was  gone,  his  breathing  was  more  regular,  and 
Sleep,  the  healer,  had  descended  to  save  or  take  him 
gently  away.  Doctor  Franck  looked  in  at  midnight, 
bade  me  keep  all  cool  and  quiet,  and  not  fail  to  adminis- 
ter a  certain  draught  as  soon  as  the  captain  woke.  Very 
much  relieved,  I  laid  my  head  on  my  arms,  uncomfort- 
ably folded  on  the  little  table,  and  fancied  I  was  about 
to  perform  one  of  the  feats  which  practice  renders  pos- 
sible,— '-sleeping  with  one  eye  open,"  as  we  say  :  a  half- 
and-half  doze,  for  all  senses  sleep  but  that  of  hearing ; 
the  faintest  murmur,  sigh,  or  motion  will  break  it,  and 
give  one  back  one's  wits  much  brightened  by  the  brief 
permission  to  '•  stand  at  ease."  On  this  night  the  experi- 
ment was  a  failure,  for  previous  vigils,  confinement,  and 
much  care  had  rendered  naps  a  dangerous  indulgence. 
Having  roused  half-a-dozen  times  in  an  hour  to  find  all 
quiet,  I  dropped  my  heavy  head  on  my  arms,  and,  drow- 
sily resolving  to  look  up  again  in  fifteen  minutes,  fell  fast 
asleep. 


l8o  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

The  striking  of  a  deep-voiced  clock  awoke  me  with  a 
start.  "  That  is  oue,"  thought  I ;  but,  to  my  dismay,  two 
more  strokes  followed,  aud  iii  remorseful  haste  I  sprang 
up  to  see  what  harm  my  long  oblivion  had  done.  A 
strong  hand  put  me  back  into  my  seat,  and  held  me  there. 
It  was  Robert.  The  instant  my  eye  met  his  my  heart 
began  to  beat,  and  all  along  my  nerves  tingled  that  elec- 
tric flash  which  foretells  a  danger  that  we  cannot  see. 
He  was  very  pale,  his  mouth  grim,  and  both  eyes  full 
of  sombre  iire  ;  for  even  the  wounded  one  was  open 
now,  all  the  more  sinister  for  the  deep  scar  above  and 
below.  But  his  touch  was  steady,  his  voice  quiet,  as  he 
said,  — 

"  Sit  still.  Missis  ;  I  won't  hurt  yer,  nor  scare  yer,  ef 
I  can  help  it,  but  yer  waked  too  soon." 

"Let  me  go,  Robert, — the  captain  is  stirring,  —  I 
must  give  him  something." 

"  No,  Missis,  yer  can't  stir  an  inch.     Look  here  !  " 

Holding  me  with  one  hand,  with  the  other  he  took  up 
the  glass  in  which  I  had  left  the  draught,  and  showed  me 
it  was  empty. 

"Has  he  taken  it?"  I  asked,  more  and  more  bewil- 
dered. 

"  I  flung  it  out  o'  winder,  Missis ;  he'll  have  to  do 
without." 

"  But  why,  Robert?  why  did  you  do  it?  " 

"  'Kase  I  hate  him  !  " 

Impossible  to  doubt  the  truth  of  that ;  his  whole  face 
showed  it,  as  he  spoke  through  his  set  teeth,  and  launched 
a  fiery  glance  at  the  unconscious  captain.  I  could  only 
hold  my  breath  and  stare  blankly  at  him,  wondering 
what  mad  act  was  coming  next.     I  suppose  I  shook  and 


MY    CONTRABAND.  I  S I 

turned  white,  as  women  have  a  foolish  habit  of  doing 
when  sadden  danger  daunts  them  ;  for  Robert  released 
my  arm,  sat  down  upon  the  bedside  just  in  front  of  me, 
and  said,  Avith  the  ominous  quietude  that  made  me  cold 
to  see  and  hear,  — 

"  Don't  yer  be  frightened.  Missis  ;  don't  try  to  run 
uway,  fer  tlie  door's  locked  and  the  key  in  my  pocket ; 
don't  yer  cry  out,  fer  yer'd  have  to  scream  a  long  while, 
with  my  hand  on  yer  mouth,  'efore  yer  was  heard.  Be 
still,  an'  I'll  tell  yer  what  I'm  gu'ine  to  do." 

"  Lord  help  us  !  he  has  taken  the  fever  in  some  sud- 
den, violent  way,  and  is  out  of  his  head.  I  must  humor 
him  till  some  one  comes  "  ;  in  pursuance  of  which  swift 
determination,  I  tried  to  say,  quite  composedly,  — 

"I  will  be  still  and  hear  you  ;  but  open  the  window. 
Why  did  you  shut  it?" 

"  I'm  sorry  I  can't  do  it,  Missis  ;  but  yer'd  jump  out, 
or  call,  if  I  did,  an'  I'm  not  ready  yet.  I  shut  it  to  make 
yer  sleep,  an'  heat  would  do  it  quicker'n  anything  else  I 
could  do." 

The  captain  moved,  and  feebly  muttered  "  Water !  '* 
Instinctively  I  rose  to  give  it  to  him,  but  the  heavy  hand 
came  do\\Ti  upon  my  shoulder,  and  in  the  same  decided 
tone  Robert  said,  — 

"  The  water  went  with  the  physic  ;  let  him  call.'* 

"  Do  let  me  go  to  him  !  he'll  die  without  care  !  " 

"  I  mean  he  shall ;  —  don't  yer  meddle,  if  yer  please. 
Missis." 

In  spite  of  his  quiet  tone  and  respectful  manner,  I  saw 
murder  in  his  eyes,  and  turned  faint  with  fear ;  yet  the 
fear  excited  me,  and,  hardly  knowing  what  I  did,  I  seized 
the  hands  that  had  seized  me,  crying,  — 


1 83  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  No,  no  ;  you  shall  not  kill  him  !  It  is  base  to  hurt  a 
helpless  man.  Why  do  you  hate  him  ?  He  is  not  your 
master." 

"  He's  my  brother." 

I  felt  that  answer  from  head  to  foot,  and  seemed  to 
fathom  what  -was  coming,  with  a  prescience  vague,  but 
unmistakable.  One  appeal  was  left  to  me,  and  I 
made  it. 

"Robert,  tell  me  what  it  means?  Do  not  commit  a 
crime  and  make  me  accessory  to  it.  There  is  a  better 
way  of  righting  wrong  than  by  violence  ;  —  let  me  help 
you  find  it." 

My  voice  trembled  as  I  spoke,  and  I  heard  the  fright- 
ened flutter  of  my  heart ;  so  did  he,  and  if  any  little  act 
of  mine  had  ever  won  affection  or  respect  from  him,  the 
memory  of  it  served  me  then.  He  looked  down,  and 
seemed  to  put  some  question  to  himself;  whatever  it  w^as, 
the  answer  was  in  my  favor,  for  when  his  eyes  rose 
again,  they  were  gloomy,  but  not  desperate. 

"  I  will  tell  yer.  Missis  ;  but  mind,  this  makes  no 
difference  ;  the  boy  is  mine.  I'll. give  the  Lord  a  chance 
to  take  him  fust :  if  He  don't,  I  shall." 

"  Oh,  no  !  remember  he  is  your  brother." 

An  unwise  speech  ;  I  felt  it  as  it  passed  my  lips,  for  a 
black  frown  gathered  on  Robert's  face,  and  his  strong, 
hands  closed  with  an  ugly  sort  of  grip.  But  he  did  not 
touch  the  poor  soul  gasping  there  behind  him,  and  seemed 
content'  to  let  the  slow  suffocation  of  that  stifling  room 
end  his  frail  life. 

"  I'm  not  like  to  forgit  dat.  Missis,  when  I've  been 
thinkin'  of  it  all  this  week.  I  knew  him  when  they  fetched 
him  in,  an'  would  'a'  done  it  long  'fore  this,  but  I  wanted 


MV    CONTRABAND.  1 83 

to  ask  where  Lucy  was  ;  he  knows,  —  he  told  to-night, 
—  an'  now  he's  done  for." 

"  "Who  is  Lucy?  "  I  asked  hurriedly,  intent  on  keeping 
his  mind  busy  with  any  thought  but  murder. 

With  one  of  the  swift  transitions  of  a  mixed  temper- 
ament like  this,  at  my  question  Robert's  deep  eyes  filled, 
the  clenched  hands  were  spread  before  his  face,  and  all  I 
heard  were  the  broken  words,  — 

"  My  wife,  —  he  took  her " 

In  that  instant  every  thought  of  fear  was  swallowed 
up  in  burning  indignation  for  the  Avrong,  and  a  perfect 
passion  of  pity  for  the  desperate  man  so  tempted  to 
avenge  an  injury  for  which  there  seemed  no  redrees  but 
this.  He  was  no  longer  slave  or  contraband,  no  drop  of 
black  blood  marred  him  in  my  sight,  but  an  infinite  com- 
passion yearned  to  save,  to  help,  to  comfort  him.  Words 
seemed  so  powerless  I  offered  none,  only  put  my  hand  on 
his  poor  head,  wounded,  homeless,  bowed  down  Avith 
grief  for  which  I  had  no,  cure,  and  softly  smoothed  the 
long,  neglected  hair,  pitifully  w^ondering  the  while  where 
was  the  wife  who  must  have  loved  this  tender-hearted 
man  so  well. 

The  captain  moaned  again,  and  faintly  whispered, 
"  Air  !  "  but  I  never  stirred.  God  forgive  me  !  just  then 
I  hated  him  as  only  a  woman  thinking  of  a  sister 
woman's  wrong  could  hate.  Robert  looked  up  ;  his  eyes 
were  dry  again,  his  mouth  grim.  I  saw  that,  said,  "  Tell 
me  more,"  and  he  did ;  for  sympathy  is  a  gift  the  poorest 
may  give,  the  proudest  stoop  to  receive. 

"  Yer  see.  Missis,  his  father,  — I  might  say  ours,  ef 
I  warn't  ashamed  of  both  of  'em,  —  his  fiither  died  two 
years   ago,  an'  left  us  all  to  Marster  Ned,  —  that's  him 


184  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

here,  eighteen  then.  He  always  hated  me,  I  looked  so 
like  old  Marster  :  he  don't,  —  only  the  light  skin  an'  hair. 
Old  Marster  was  kind  to  all  of  us,  me  'specially,  an' 
bought  Lucy  off  the  next  plantation  down  there  in  South 
Car'lina,  when  he  found  I  liked  her.  I  married  her,  all 
I  could  ;  it  warn't  nmch,  but  we  was  true  to  one  another 
till  Marster  Ned  come  home  a  year  after  an'  made  hell 
fer  both  of  us.  He  sent  my  old  mother  to  be  used  up  in 
his  rice-swamp  in  Georgy  ;  he  found  me  with  my  pretty 
Lucy,  an'  though  young  Miss  cried,  an'  I  prayed  to  him 
on  my  knees,  an'  Lucy  run  away,  he  wouldn't  have  no 
mercy  ;  he  brought  her  back,  an'  —  took  her." 

"  Oh,  what  did  you  do?"  I  cried,  hot  with  helpless 
pain  and  passion. 

How  the  man's  outraged  heart  sent  the  blood  flaming 
up  into  his  face  and  deepened  the  tones  of  his  impetuous 
voice,  as  he  stretched  his  arm  across  the  bed,  saying, 
with  a  terribly  expressive  gesture,  — 

"  I  half  murdered  him,  an'  to-night  I'll  finish.'* 

"  Yes,  yes,  — but  go  on  now  ;  what  came  next?  " 

He  gave  me  a  look  that  showed  no  white  man  could 
have  felt  a  deeper  degradation  in  remembering  and  con- 
fessing these  last  acts  of  brotherly  oppression. 

"  They  whipped  me  till  I  couldn't  stand,  an'  then  they 
sold  me  further  South.  Yer  thought  I  was  a  white  man 
once,  —  look  here  !  " 

With  a  sudden  wrench  he  tore  the  shirt  from  neck  to 
waist,  and  on  his  strong,  brown  shoulders  showed  me  fur- 
rows deeply  ploughed,  wounds  which,  though  healed, 
were  ghastlier  to  me  than  any  in  that  house.  I  could 
not  speak  to  him,  and,  with  the  pathetic  dignity  a  great 


MY    CONTRABAND.  1 85 

grief  leiuls  the  humblest  sufferer,  he  ended  his  brief 
tragedy  by  simply  saying,  — 

"  That's  all,  Missis.  I'se  never  seen  her  since,  an' 
now  I  never  shall  in  this  world,  —  maybe  not  in  t'other." 

''But,  Robert,  why  think  her  dead?  The  captain  was 
wandering  when  he  said  those  sad  things  ;  perhaps  he 
will  retract  them  when  he  is  sane.  Don't  despair  ;  don't 
give  up  yet." 

"  No,  Missis,  I  'spect  he's  right ;  she  was  too  proud  to 
bear  that  long.  It's  like  her  to  kill  herself.  I  told  her 
to,  if  there  was  no  other  Avay ;  an'  she  always  minded 
me,  Lucy  did.  My  poor  girl !  Oh,  it  wam't  right !  No, 
by  God,  it  warn't !  " 

As  the  memory  of  this  bitter  wrong,  this  double 
bereavement,  burned  in  his  sore  heart,  the  devil  that 
lurks  in  every  strong  man's  blood  leaped  up  ;  he  put  his 
hand  upon  his  brother's  throat,  and,  v/atching  the  white 
face  before  him,  muttered  low  between  his  teeth,  — 

"  I'm  lettin'  him  go  too  easy  ;  there's  no  pain  in  this  ; 
we  a'n't  even  yet.  I  wish  he  knew  me.  Marster  Ned  ! 
it's  Bob;    where's  Lucy?" 

From  the  captain's  lips  there  came  a  long  faint  sigh, 
and  nothing  but  a  flutter  of  the  eyelids  showed  that  he 
still  lived.  A  strange  stillness  filled  the  room  as  the 
elder  brother  held  the  younger's  life  suspended  in  his 
hand,  while  wavering  between  a  dim  hope  and  a  deadly 
hate.  In  the  whirl  of  thoughts  that  went  on  in  my  brain, 
only  one  was  clear  enough  to  aot  upon.  I  must  prevent 
murder,  if  I  could,  —  but  how?  What  could  I  do  up 
there  alone,  locked  in  with  a  dying  man  and  a  lunatic? 
—  for  any  mind  yielded  utterly  to  any  vmrighteous  im- 
pulse is  mad  while  the  impulse  rules  it.     Strength  I  had 


1 86  CAMP    AND    I'IKESIDE    STORIES. 

not,  nor  much  courage,  neither  time  nor  wit  for  strata- 
gem, and  chance  only  could  bring  me  help  before  it  was 
too  late.  But  one  weapon  I  possessed,  —  a  tongue,  — 
often  a  woman's  best  defence  ;  and  sympathy,  stronger 
than  fear,  gave  me  power  to  use  it.  What  I  said  Heaven 
only  knoAvs,  but  surely  Heaven  helped  me  ;  w^ords  burned 
on  my  lips,  tears  streamed  from  my  eyes,  and  some  good 
angel  prompted  me  to  use  the  one  name  that  had  power 
to  arrest  my  hearer's  hand  and  touch  his  heart.  For  at 
that  moment  I  heartily  believed  that  Lucy  lived,  and  this 
earnest  faith  roused  in  him  a  like  belief. 

He  listened  with  the  lowering  look  of  one  in  w^hom 
brute  instinct  was  sovereign  for  the  time,  —  a  look  that 
makes  the  noblest  countenance  base.  He  was.  but  a 
man,  —  a  poor,  untaught,  outcast,  outraged  man.  Life 
had  few  joys  for  him  ;  the  w^orld  offered  him  no  honors, 
no  success,  no  home,  no  love.  What  future  would  this 
crime  mar  ?  and  why  should  he  deny  himself  that  sweet, 
yet  bitter  morsel  called  revenge?  How  many  white 
men,  with  all  New  England's  freedom,  culture,  Chris- 
tianity, Avould  not  have  felt  as  he  felt  then?  Should  I 
have  reproached  him  for  a  human  anguish,  a  human 
lonirins^  for  redress,  all  now  left  him  from  the  ruin  of  his 
few  poor  hopes  ?  Who  had  taught  him  that  self-control, 
self-sacrifice,  are  attributes  that  make  men  masters  of 
the  earth,  and  lift  them  nearer  heaven?  Should  I  have 
urged  the  beauty  of  forgiveness,  the  duty  of  devout  sub- 
mission? He  had  no  religion,  for  he  was  no  saintly 
''  Uncle  Tom,"  and  Slavery's  black  shadow  seemed  to 
darken  all  the  world  to  him,  and  shut  out  God.  Should 
I  have  warned  him  of  penalties,  of  judgments,  and  the 
potency  of  law?     AYhat  did  he  know  of  justice,  or  the 


MY    CONTIIABAND.  1S7 

mercy  that  should  temper  that  stern  virtue,  when  every 
hiw,  human  and  divine,  had  been  broken  on  his  hearth- 
stone? Should  I  have  tried  to  touch  him  by  appeals  to 
filial  duty,  to  brotherly  love  ?  How  had  his  appeals  been 
answered?  What  memories  had  father  and  brother 
stored  up  in  his  heart  to  plead  for  either  now?  No,— 
all  these  influences,  these  associations,  would  have  proved 
worse  than  useless,  had  I  been  calm  enough  to  try  them. 
I  was  not ;  but  instinct,  subtler  than  reason,  showed  me 
the  one  safe  clue  by  which  to  lead  this  troubled  soul 
from  the  labyrinth  in  which  it  groped  and  nearly  feU. 
When  I  paused,  breathless,  Robert  turned  to  me,  asking, 
as  if  human  assurances  could  strengthen  his  faith  in 
Divine  Omnipotence, — 

"  Do  you  believe,  if  I  let  Marster  Ned  live,  the  Lord 
will  give  me  back  my  Lucy  ?  " 

"  As  surely  as  there  is  a  Lord,  you  will  find  her  here 
or  in  the  beautiful  hereafter,  where  there  is  no  black  or 
white,  no  master  and  no  slave." 

He  took  his  hand  from  his  brother's  throat,  lifted  his 
eyes  from  my  face  to  the  wintry  sky  beyond,  as  if 
searching  for  that  blessed  country,  happier  even  than  the 
happy  North.  Alas,  it  was  the  darkest  hour  before  the 
dawn  !  —  there  was  no  star  above,  no  light  below  but 
the  pale  glimmer  of  the  lamp  that  showed  the  brother 
who  had  made  him  desolate.  Like  a  blind  man  who 
believes  there  is  a  sun,  yet  cannot  see  it,  he  shook  his 
head,  let  his'  arms  droR  nervelessly  upon  his  knees,  and 
sat  there  dumbly  asking  that  question  which  many  a  soul 
whose  faith  is  firmer  fixed  than  his  has  asked  in  hours 
less  dark  than  this, —  "  Where  is  God?"  I  saw  the 
ti'.l'o  had  turned,  and  strenuously  tried  to  keep  this  rud- 


I  S3  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

derless  life-boat  from  slipping  back  into  the  whirlpool 
wherein  it  had  been  so  nearly  lost. 

"•'  I  have  listened  to  you,  Robert ;  now  hear  me,  and 
heed  what  I  say,  because  my  heart  is  full  of  pity  for 
you,  full  of  hope  for  your  future,  aud  a  desire  to  help 
you  now.  I  want  you  to  go  away  from  here,  from  the 
temptation  of  this  place,  and  the  sad  thoughts  that  haunt 
it.  You  have  conquered  yourself  once,  and  I  honor  you 
for  it,  because,  the  harder  the  battle,  the  more  glorious 
the  victory ;  but  it  is  safer  to  put  a  greater  distance 
between  you  and  this  man.  I  will  w^rite  you  letters, 
give  you  money,  and  send  you  to  good  old  Massachusetts 
to  begin  your  new  life  a  freeman,  —  yes,  aud  a  happy 
man  ;  for  when  the  captain  is  himself  again,  I  wdll  learn 
where  Lucy  is,  and  move  heaven  and  earth  to  find  and 
give  her  back  to  you.     Will  you  do  this,  Robert?  " 

Slowly,  very  slowly,  the  answer  came  ;  for  the  pur- 
pose of  a  week,  perhaps  a  year,  was  hard  to  relinquish 
in  an  hour. 

"  Yes,  Missis,  I  will." 

"  Good  !  Now  you  are  the  man  I  thought  you,  and 
I'll  work  for  you  with  all  my  heart.  You  need  sleep, 
my  poor  fellow ;  go,  and  try  to  forget.  The  captain  is 
alive,  and  as  yet  you  are  spared  that  sin.  No,  don't  look 
there ;  I'll  care  for  him.  Come,  Robert,  for  Lucy's 
sake." 

Thank  Heaven  for  the  immortality  of  love  !  for  when 
all  other  means  of  salvation  failed,  a  spark  of  this  vital 
fire  softened  the  man's  iron  will,  until  a  woman's  hand 
could  bend  it.  He  let  me  take  from  him  the  key,  let 
me  draw^  him  gently  away,  aud  lead  him  to  the  solitude 
which  now  was  the  most  healing  balm  I   could  bestow. 


MY    CONTRABAND.  1 89 

Once  in  his  little  room,  he  fell  down  on  his  bed  and  lay 
there,  as  if  spent  with  the  sharpest  conflict  of  his  life. 
I  slipped  the  bolt  across  his  door,  and  unlocked  my  own, 
flung  up  the  window,  steadied  myself  with  a  breath  of 
air,  then  rushed  to  Doctor  Franck.  He  came  ;  and  till 
dawn  we  worked  together,  saving  one  brother's  life,  and 
takinj2r  earnest  thounjht  how  best  to  secure  the  otlier's 
liberty.  "When  the  sun  came  up  as  blithely  as  if  it  shone 
only  upon  happy  homes,  the  Doctor  Avent  to  Robert. 
For  an  hour  I  heard  the  murmur  of  their  voices  ;  once 
I  caught  the  sound  of  heavy  sobs,  and  for  a  time  a 
reverent  hush,  as  if  in  the  silence  that  good  man  were 
ministering  to  soul  as  well  as  body.  When  he  departed 
he  took  Robert  with  him,  pausing  to  tell  me  he  should 
get  him  off  as  soon  as  possible,  but  not  before  we  met 
again. 

Nothing  more  Avas  seen  of  them  all  day ;  another 
surgeon  came  to  see  the  captain,  and  another  attendant 
came  to  fill  the  empty  place.  I  tried  to  rest,  but  could 
not,  with  the  thought  of  poor  Lucy  tugging  at  my  heart, 
and  was  soon  back  at  my  post  again,  anxiously  hoping 
that  my  contraband  had  not  been  too  hastily  spirited 
away.  Just  as  night  fell  there  came  a  tap,  and,  opening, 
I  saw  Robert  literally  "  clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind." 
Tlie  Doctor  had  replaced  the  ragged  suit  with  tidy  gar- 
ments, and  no  trace  of  that  tempestuous  night  remained 
but  deeper  lines  upon  the  forehead,  and  the  docile  look 
of  a  repentant  child.  He  did  not  cross  the  threshold, 
did  not  offer  me  his  hand,  —  only  took  off  his  cap, 
saying,  with  a  traitorous  falter  in  his  voice,  — 
"  God  bless  yer.  Missis  !  I'm  gwine." 
I  put  out  botli  my  hands,  and  held  his  fast. 


190  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

''  Good-by,  Robert !  Keep  up  good  heart,  and  when 
I  come  home  to  Massachusetts  we'll  meet  in  a  happier 
place  than  this.  Are  you  quite  ready,  quite  comfortable 
for  your  journey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Missis,  yes  ;  the  Doctor's  fixed  everything ;  I'se 
gwine  w4th  a  friend  of  his  ;  my  papers  are  all  right,  an' 
I'm  as  happy  as  I  can  be  till  I  find  " 

He  stopped  there  ;  then  went  on,  with  a  glance  into 
the  room,  — 

''  I'm  glad  I  didn't  do  it,  an'  I  thank  yer.  Missis,  fer 
hinderin'  me,  —  thank  yer  hearty  ;  but  I'm  afraid  I  hate 
him  jest  the  same." 

Of  course  he  did  ;  and  so  did  I ;  for  these  faulty  hearts 
of  ours  cannot  turn  perfect  in  a  night,  but  need  frost  and 
fire,  wind  and  rain,  to  ripen  and  make  them  ready  for  the 
great  harvest-home.  Wishing  to  divert  his  mind,  I  put  my 
poor  mite  into  his  hand,  and,  remembering  the  magic  of 
a  certain  little  book,  I  gave  him  mine,  on  Avhose  dark 
cover  whitely  shone  the  Virgin  Mother  and  the  Child, 
the  grand  history  of  whose  life  the  book  contained.  The 
money  went  into  Robert's  pocket  with  a  grateful  murmur, 
the  book  into  his  bosom,  with  a  long  look  and  a  trem- 
ulous — 

"  I  never  saw  my  baby,  Missis." 

I  broke  down  then ;  and  though  my  eyes  were  too  dim 
to  see,  I  felt  the  touch  of  lips  upon  my  hands,  heard  the 
sound  of  departing  feet,  and  knew  my  contraband  was 
gone. 

When  one  feels  an  intense  dislike,  the  less  one  says 
about  the  subject  of  it  the  better ;  therefore  I  shall 
merely  record  that  the  captain  lived.  —  in  time  was 
exchanged ;  and  that,  Avhoever  the   other  party  was,  I 


MY    CONTRABAND.  I9I 

am  convinced  the  Government  got  the  best  of  the  bar- 
gain. But  long  before  this  occurred,  I  had  fulfilled  my 
promise  to  Robert ;  for  as  soon  as  my  patient  recovered 
strength  of  memory  enough  to  make  his  answer  trust- 
worthy, I  asked,  without  any  circumlocution,  — 

"  Captain  Fairfax,  where  is  Lucy?  " 

And  too  feeble  to  be  angry,  surprised,  or  insincere,  he 
straightway  answered,  — 

"  Dead,  Miss  Dane." 

"  And  slie  killed  herself  Avhen  you  sold  Bob?  " 

"How  the  devil  did  you  know  that?  "he  muttered, 
with  an  expression  half-remorseful,  half-amazed ;  but  I 
was  satisfied,  and  said  no  more. 

Of  course  this  went  to  Robert,  waiting  far  away  there 
in  a  lonely  home,  —  waiting,  working,  hoping  for  his 
Lucy.  It  almost  broke  my  heart  to  do  it ;  but  delay 
was  weak,  deceit  was  wicked ;  so  I  sent  the  heavy 
tidings,  and  very  soon  the  answer  came,  —  only  three 
lines  ;  but  I  felt  that  the  sustaining  power  of  the  man's 
life  was  gone. 

*'  I  tort  I'd  never  see  her  any  more  ;  I  'm  glad  to  know 
she's  out  of  trouble.  I  thank  yer.  Missis  ;  an'  if  they  let 
us,  I'll  fight  fer  yer  till  I'm  killed,  which  I  hope  will  be 
'fore  long." 

Six  months  later  he  had  his  wish,  and  kept  his  word. 

Every  one  knows  the  story  of  the  attack  on  Fort 
Wagner ;  but  we  should  not  tire  yet  of  recalling  how 
our  Fifty-Fourth,  spent  with  three  sleepless  nights,  a 
day's  fiist,  and  a  march  under  the  July  sun,  stormed  the 
fort  as  night  fell,  facing  death  in  many  shapes,  following 
their  brave  leaders  through  a  fiery  rain  of  shot  and  shell, 
fighting  valiantly  for  "God  and  Governor  Andrew,"  — 


192  CAMP    AND    F-IRESIDE    STORIES. 

how  the  regiment  that  went  into  action  seven  hundred 
strong,  came  out  liaving  had  nearly  half  its  number 
captured,  killed,  or  woimded,  leaving  their  young  com- 
mander to  be  buried,  like  a  chief  of  earlier  times,  willi 
his  body-guard  around  him,  faithful  to  the  death.  Surely, 
the  insult  turns  to  honor,  and  the  Avide  grave  needs  no 
monument  but  the  heroism  that  consecrates  it  in  our 
sight ;  surely,  the  hearts  that  held  him  nearest,  see 
through  their  tears  a  noble  victory  in  the  seeming  sad 
defeat ;  and  surely,  God's  benediction  was  bestowed, 
when  this  loyal  soul  answ^ered,  as  Death  called  the  roll, 
"  Lord,  here  am  I,  Avith  the  brothers  Thou  hast  given 
me!" 

The  future  must  shoAv  how  well  that  fight  was  fought ; 
for  though  Fort  Wagner  once  defied  us,  public  prejudice 
is  doAvn  ;  and  through  the  cannon-smoke  of  that  black 
night,  the  manhood  of  the  colored  race  shines  before 
many  eyes  that  would  not  see,  rings  in  many  ears  that 
would  not  hear,  wins  many  hearts  that  would  not  hith- 
erto believe. 

When  the  news  came  that  Ave  were  needed,  there  was 
none  so  glad  as  I  to  leave  teaching  contrabands,  the  ncAv 
AA'ork  I  had  taken  up,  and  go  to  nurse  ''  our  boys,"  as 
my  dusky  flock  so  proudly  called  the  Avounded  of  the 
Fifty-Fourth.  Feeling  more  satisfaction,  as  I  assumed 
my  big  apron  and  turned  up  my  cuffs,  than  if  dressing 
for  the  President's  levee,  I  fell  to  work  in  Hospital  No.  10 
at  Beaufort.  The  scene  AA^as  most  familiar,  and  yet 
strange  ;  for  only  dark  faces  looked  up  at  me  from  the 
pallets  so  thickly  laid  along  the  floor,  and  I  missed  the 
sharp  accent  of  my  Yankee  boys  in  the  sloAver,  softer 
voices  calling  cheerily  to  one  another,  or  answering  my 


MY    CONTRABAND.  1 93 

questions  with  a  stout,  "  We'll  never  give  it  up,  Missis, 
till  the  last  Reb's  dead,"  or,  "If  our  people's  free,  we 
can  atlbrd  to  die." 

Passing  from  bed  to  bed,  intent  on  making  one  pair  of 
liands  do  the  work  of  three,  at  least,  I  gradually  washed, 
fed,  and  bandaged  my  way  down  the  long  line  of  sable 
heroes,  and  coming  to  the  very  last,  found  that  he  was 
my  contraband.  So  old,  so  worn,  so  deathly  weak  and 
wan,  I  never  should  have  knoAvn  him  but  for  the  deep 
scar  on  his  cheek.  That  side  lay  uppermost,  and  caught 
my  eye  at  once  ;  but  even  then  I  doubted,  such  an  awful 
change  had  come  upon  him,  when,  turning  to  the  ticket 
just  above  his  head,  I  saw  the  name,  "Robert  Dane." 
That  both  assured  and  touched  me,  for,  remembering 
that  he  had  no  name,  I  knew  that  he  had  taken  mine. 
I  longed  for  him  to  speak  to  me,  to  tell  how  he  had  fared 
since  I  lost  sight  of  him,  and  let  me  perform  some  little 
service  for  him  in  return  for  many  he  had  done  for  me  ; 
but  he  seemed  asleep  ;  and  as  I  stood  re-living  that 
strange  night  again,  a  bright  lad,  who  lay  next  him 
softly  waving  an  old  fan  across  both  beds,  looked  up  and 
said,  — 

"  I  guess  you  know  him,  Missis?  " 

"  You  are  right.     Do  you  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  any  one  was  able  to,  Missis." 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  was,'  as  if  the  man  were  dead 
and  gone  ?  " 

"  I  s'pose  because  I  know  he'll  have  to  go.  He's  got 
a  bad  jab  in  the  breast,  an'  is  bleedin'  inside,  the  Doctor 
says.  He  don't  suffer  any,  only  gets  weaker  'n'  weaker 
every  minute.     I've  been  fannin'  him  this  long  while, 

13 


194  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

au'  he's  talked  a  little  ;  but  he  dou't  know  me  now,  so 
he's  most  gone,  I  guess." 

There  was  so  much  sorroAv  and  affection  in  the  boy's 
face,  that  I  remembered  something,  and  asked,  with 
redoubled  interest,  — 

''  Are  you  the  one  that  brought  him  off?  I  was  told 
about  a  boy  who  nearly  lost  his  life  in  saving  that  of  his 
mate." 

I  dare  say  the  young  fellow  blushed,  as  any  modest 
lad  might  have  done  ;  I  could  not  see  it,  but  I  heard  the 
chuckle  of  satisfaction  that  escaped  him,  as  he  glanced 
from  his  shattered  arm  and  bandaged  side  to  the  pale 
figure  opposite. 

"  Lord,  Missis,  that's  nothin' ;  we  boys  always  stan' 
by  one  another,  an'  I  warn't  goin'  to  leave  him  to  be 
tormented  any  more  by  them  cussed  Rebs.  He's  been  a 
slave  once,  though  he  don't  look  half  so  much  like  it  as 
me,  an'  I  was  born  in  Boston." 

He  did  not ;  for  the  speaker  was  as  black  as  the  ace 
of  spades,  —  being  a  sturdy  specimen,  the  knave  of  clubs 
would  perhaps  be  a  fitter  representative,  —  but  the  dark 
freeman  looked  at  the  white  slave  with  the  pitiful,  yet 
puzzled  expression  I  have  so  often  seen  on  the  faces  of 
our  wisest  men,  when  this  tangled  question  of  Slavery 
presented  itself,  asking  to  be  cut  or  patiently  undone. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  know  of  this  man  ;  for,  even  if 
he  were  awake,  he  is  too  weak  to  talk." 

"  I  never  saw  him  till  I  joined  the  regiment,  an'  no 
one  'peared  to  have  got  much  out  of  him.  He  was  a 
shut-up  sort  of  feller,  an'  didn't  seem  to  care  for  anything 
but  gettin'  at  the  Rebs.  Some  say  he  was  the  fust  man 
of  us  that  enlisted ;  I  know  he  fretted  till  we  were  off, 


MY    CONTRABAND. 


95 


an'  wlioii  we  pitched  into  old  Wagner,  he  fought  like  the 
devil." 

"  Were  you  with  him  when  he  was  wounded?  How 
was  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Missis.  There  was  somethin'  queer  about  it ; 
for  he  'peared  to  know  the  chap  that  killed  him,  an'  the 
chap  knew  him.  I  don't  dare  to  ask,  but  I  rather  guess 
one  owned  the  other  some  time  ;  for,  when  they  clinched, 
the  chap  sung  out,  •  Bob  !  '  an'  Dane,  '  Marster  Ned !  ' — 
then  they  went  at  it."* 

I  sat  do\vn  suddenly,  for  the  old  anger  and  compassion 
struggled  in  my  heart,  and  I  both  longed  and  feared  to 
hear  what  was  to  follow. 

''You  see,  when  the  Colonel,  —  Lord  keep  an'  send 
him  back  to  us  !  —  it  a'n't  certain  yet,  you  know.  Missis, 
though  it's  two  days  ago  we  lost  him,  —  well,  when  the 
Colonel  shouted,  '  Rush  on,  boys,  rush  on  ! '  Dane  tore 
away  as  if  he  was  goin'  to  take  the  fort  alone ;  I  was 
next  him,  an'  kept  close  as  we  w^ent  through  the  ditch  an* 
up  the  wall.  Hi !  warn't  that  a  rusher !  "  and  the  boy 
flung  up  his  well  arm  with  a  whoop,  as  if  the  mere  mem- 
ory of  that  stirring  moment  came  over  him  in  a  gust  of 
irrepressible  excitement. 

"  Were  you  afraid?"  I  said,  asking  the  question  women 
often  put,  and  receiving  the  answer  they  seldom  fail  to 
get. 

"  No,  Missis  !  "  —  emphasis  on  the  "  Missis  "  —  "I 
never  thought  of  anything  but  the  damn'  Rebs,  that  scalp, 
slash,  an'  cut  our  ears  off,  when  they  git  us.  I  was 
bound  to  let  daylight  into  one  of  'em  at  least,  an'  I  did. 
Hope  he  liked  it !  " 


196  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  It  is  evident  that  you  did.  Now  go  on  about  Robert, 
for  I  should  be  at  work." 

"  He  was  one  of  the  fust  up  ;  I  was  just  behind,  an' 
though  the  whole  thing  happened  in  a  minute,  I  remem- 
ber how  it  was,  for  all  I  was  yellin'  an'  knockin'  round 
like  mad.  Just  where  we  were,  some  sort  of  an  officer 
was  wavin'  his  sword  an'  cheerin'  on  his  men  ;  Dane 
saw  him  by  a  big  flash  that  come  by  ;  he  flung  away  his 
gun,  give  a  leap,  tin'  went  at  that  feller  as  if  he  was  Jeff, 
Beauregard,  an'  Lee,  all  in  one.  I  scrabbled  after  as 
quick  as  I  could,  but  was  only  up  in  time  to  see  him  git 
the  sword  straight  through  him  an'  drop  into  the  ditch. 
You  needn't  ask  what  I  did  next,  Missis,  for  I  don't 
quite  know  myself;  all  I'm  clear  about  is,  that  I  man- 
aged somehow  to  pitch  that  Reb  into  the  fort  as  dead  as 
Moses,  git  hold  of  Dane,  an'  bring  him  off.  Poor  old 
feller !  we  said  we  went  in  to  live  or  die  ;  he  said  he 
went  in  to  die,  an'  he's  done  it." 

I  had  been  intently  watching  the  excited  speaker  ;  but 
as  he  regretfully  added  those  last  words  I  turned  again, 
and  Robert's  eyes  met  mine,  —  those  melancholy  eyes, 
so  full  of  an  intelligence  that  proved  he  had  heard, 
remembered,  and  reflected  with  that  preternatural  power 
which  often  outlives  all  other  faculties.  He  knew  me, 
yet  gave  no  greeting ;  was  glad  to  see  a  woman's  face, 
yet  had  no  smile  Avherewith  to  welcome  it ;  felt  that  he 
was  dying,  yet  uttered  no  farewell.  He  was  too  far 
across  the  river  to  return  or  linger  now ;  departing 
thought,  strength,  breath,  Avere  spent  in  one  grateful 
look,  one  murmur  of  submission  to  the  last  pang  he 
could  ever  feel.     His  lips  moved,  and,  bending  to  them. 


MY   CONTRABAND.  1 97 

a  whisper  chilled  my  cheek,  as  it  shaped  the  broken 
■words,  — 

'Td  'a'  done  it,  —  but  it's  better  so,  —  I'm  sat- 
isfied." 

Ah  !  well  he  might  be,  —  for,  as  he  turned  his  face 
from  the  shadow  of  the  life  that  was,  the  sunshine  of  the 
life  to  be  touched  it  with  a  beautiful  content,  and  in  the 
drawing  of  a  breath  my  contraband  found  wife  and 
home,  eternal  liberty  and  God. 


b 


LOVE     AND     LOYALTY. 

DO  you  mean  it,  Rose  ?  " 
"Yes." 

"  You  set  a  high  price  on  your  love  ;  I  cannot  pay  it." 

"  I  think  you  will." 

She  came  a  little  nearer,  this  beautiful  woman,  whom 
the  young  man  loved  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  first  affec- 
tion, she  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  looked  up  in 
his  face,  her  own  wearing  its  most  persuasive  aspect ;  for 
tenderness  seemed  to  have  conquered  pride,  and  will  was 
concealed  under  a  winning  softness  which  made  her 
doubly  dangerous,  as  she  said,  in  the  slow,  sweet  voice 
that  betrayed  her  Southern  birth, — 

"  Remember  what  you  ask, — what  I  offer  ;  then  tell  me 
which  demands  the  highest  price  for  love.  You  would 
have  me  give  up  friends,  fortune,  home,  all  the  opinions, 
prejudices,  and  beliefs  of  birth  and  education,  all  the 
hopes  and  purposes  of  years,  for  your  sake.  I  ask  noth- 
ing of  you  but  the  relinquishment  of  a  mistaken  duty  ; 
I  offer  you  all  I  possess  :  a  life  of  luxury  and  power,  and, 
—  myself." 

She  paused  there,  with  a  gesture  of  proud  humility,  as 
if  she  would  ignore  the  fact,  yet  could  not  quite  conceal 
the  consciousness,  that  she  had  much  to  bestow  upon  the 
lover  who  had  far  less  to  offer. 

"  Oh,  Rose,  you  tempt  me  terribly,"  he  said ;  "  not 

(198) 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  1 99 

with  your  possessions  or  a  life  of  luxury,  but  Avitli  your- 
self, because  I  love  you  more  than  a  thousand  fortunes  or 
a  century  of  case  and  power.  Yet,  dear  as  you  are  to 
me,  and  barren  as  the  world  will  be  without  you,  I  dare 
not  turn  traitor  even  for  your  sake." 

"  Yet  you  w^ould  have  me  do  it  for  yours." 

"  Xo :  treachery  to  the  wrong  is  allegiance  to  the 
right,  and  I  only  ask  you  to  love  your  country  better  than 
yourself,  as  I  try  to  do." 

"Who  shall  say  which  is  right  and  which  Avrong?  I 
am  tired  of  the  w^ords.  I  want  to  forget  the  ills  I  cannot 
cure,  and  enjoy  life  w^hile  I  may.  Youth  was  made  for 
happiness  ;  why  w^aste  it  in  a  quarrel  w^hicli  time  alone  can 
end?  Robert,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  turn  traitor.  I  do 
not  care  what  you  believe.  I  only  ask  you  to  stay  with 
me,  now  that  I  have  owTied  how  much  you  are  to  me." 

"  God  knows  I  wish  I  could.  Rose  ;  but  idleness  is 
treason  in  times  like  these.  What  right  have  I  to  think 
of  my  own  happiness  when  my  country  needs  me  ?  It  is 
like  deserting  my  old  mother  in  extremest  peril  to  stand 
idle  now  ;  and  when  you  tempt  me  to  forget  this,  I  must 
deny  your  prayer,  because  it  is  the  only  one  I  cannot 
grant." 

"But,  Robert,  you  are  little  to  the  rest  of  the  w^orid, 
and  everything  to  me.  Your  country  does  not  need  you 
half  so  much  as  I,  —  'a  stranger  in  a  strange  land' ;  for, 
in  a  great  struggle  like  this,  wiiat  can  one  man  do?" 

"  His  duty,  Rose." 

She  pleaded  eloquently  with  voice,  and  eyes,  and 
hands ;  but  something  in  the  sad  gravity  of  the  young 
man's  face  was  a  keener  reproach  than  his  words.  She 
felt  that  she  could  not  win  him  so,  and,  with  a  swift  and 


200  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

subtle  change  of  countenance  and  manner,  she  put  him 
from  her,  saying  reproachfully,  — 

"Then  do  yours,  and  make  some  reparation  for  the 
peace  of  mind  you  have  destroyed.  I  have  a  right  to  ask 
this.  I  came  here  as  to  a  refuge,  hoping  to  live  unknown 
till  the  storm  was  over.  AVliy  did  you  find  me  out,  pro- 
tect me  by  your  influence,  lighten  ray  exile  by  your  soci- 
ety, and,  under  the  guise  of  friendship,  teach  me  to 
love  you?" 

Robert  Stirling  watched  her  with  lover's  eyes,  listened 
with  lover's  ears,  and  answered  like  a  lover,  finding  her 
the  fairer  and  dearer  for  the  growing  fear  that  a  hard 
test  was  in  store  for  him. 

"I  found  you  out,  because  your  beauty  would  not  be 
concealed  ;  I  protected  you,  because  you  were  a  woman, 
and  alone ;  I  gave  you  friendship,  because  I  wished  to 
prove  that  we  of  the  North  hold  sacred  the  faith  our 
enemies  place  in  us  by  sending  to  our  keeping  the  treasure 
they  most  value  ;  and.  Rose,  I  loved  you  because  I  could 
not  help  it." 

She  smiled  then,  and  the  color  deepened  beautifully  in 
the  half-averted  face,  but  she  did  not  speak,  and  Robert 
took  heart  from  the  sign. 

"  I  never  meant  to  tell  you  this,  fearing  what  has  now 
happened,  and  I  resolved  to  go  away.  But,  coming  here 
to  say  good-by,  your  grief  melted  my  resolve,  and  I  told 
you  what  I  could  no  longer  hide.  Have  I  been  ungen- 
erous and  unjust  ?  If  you  believe  so,  tell  me  what  repa- 
ration I  can  make,  and,  if  it  is  anything  an  honest  man 
may  do,  I  will  do  it." 

She  kncAv  that,  was  glad  to  know  it ;  yet,  w^ith  the 
exacting  afifection  of  a  selfish  woman,  she  felt  a  jealous 


LOV^E    AND    LOYALTY.  20I 

fear  that  she  loved  more  than  she  was  beloved,  and 
must  assure  herself  by  some  trial  that  she  was  all  in 
air  to  her  young  lover.  He  waited  for  her  answer  with 
such  keen  anxiety,  such  wistful  tenderness,  that  she  felt 
confident  of  success  ;  and,  yielding  to  the  love  of  power 
so  strong  within  her,  she  could  not  resist  the  desire  of 
exercising  it  over  this  new  subject,  finding  her  excuse  in 
the  fond  j^et  wayward  wish  to  keep  from  danger  that 
which  was  now  so  dear  to  her. 

"  I  have  lost  enough  by  this  costly  war :  I  will  lose  no 
more,"  she  said.  "It  is  easier  to  part  at  once  than  later, 
when  time  has  more  endeared  us  to  each  other.  Choose 
between  the  country  which  you  love  and  the  Avoman  who 
loves  you,  and  by  that  choice  we  will  both  abide." 

"  Rose,  this  is  cruel,  this  is  hard !  Let  me  choose  both, 
and  be  the  better  man  for  that  double  service." 

"It  is  impossible.  Xo  one  can  serve  two  mistresses. 
I  will  have  all  or  nothing." 

As  she  spoke  she  gently,  but  decidedly,  freed  herself 
from  his  detaining  hold,  and  stood  away  from  him,  as  if 
to  prove  both  her  strength  and  her  sincerity.  The  act 
changed  the  words  of  separation  trembling  on  Robert's 
lips  to  words  of  entreaty ;  for,  though  his  upright  nature 
owned  the  hard  duty,  his  heart  clung  to  its  idol,  feeling 
that  it  must  be  wrenched  away. 

"  Wait  a  little.  Rose.  Give  me  time  to  think.  Let 
me  prove  that  I  am  no  coward ;  then  I  will  serve  you, 
and  you  alone." 

"Xo,  Robert;  if  you  truly  loved  me,  you  would  be 
eager  and  glad  to  make  any  sacrifice  for  me.  I  would 
willingly  make  many  for  you  ;  but  this  one  I  cannot, 
because  it  robs  me  of  you  in  a  double  sense.     If  you 


202  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

fall,  I  lose  you  ;  if  you  come  back  alive,  I  lose  you  iio 
less,  for  how  can  I  accept  a  band  reddened  with  the 
blood  of  those  I  love?" 

He  had  no  answer,  and  stood  silent.  She  saw  that  this 
moment  of  keen  suffering  and  conflicting  passions  was 
the  turning-point  in  the  young  man's  life,  yet,  nothing 
doubting  her  power,  she  hardened  herself  to  his  pain  that 
she  might  gain  her  point  now  and  repay  his  submission 
by  greater  affection  hereafter.  Her  voice  broke  the  brief 
silence,  steady,  sweet,  and  sad  : 

"  I  see  that  you  have  chosen ;  I  submit.  But  go  at 
once,  while  I  can  part  as  I  should ;  and  remember,  we 
must  never  meet  again." 

He  had  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands,  struggling 
dumbly  Avith  honest  conscience  and  rebellious  heart. 
Standing  so,  he  felt  a  light  touch  on  his  bent  head,  heard 
the  sound  of  a  departing  step,  and  looked  up  to  see  Rose 
passing  from  his  sight,  perhaps  forever.  An  exclamation 
of  love  and  longing  broke  from  his  lips  ;  at  the  sound  she 
paused,  and,  turning,  let  him  see  that  her  face  Avas  bathed 
in  tears.  At  that  sight  duty  seemed  doubly  stern  and 
cruel,  the  sacrifice  of  integrity  grew  an  easy  thing,  and 
separation  an  impossibility.  The  tender  eyes  were  ^on 
him,  the  imploring  hands  outstretched  to  him,  and  the 
beloved  voice  cried,  brokenly,  — 

"  Oh,  Robert,  stay  !  " 

"IwHl!" 

He  spoke  out  defiantly,  as  if  to  silence  the  inward 
monitor  that  would  not  yield  consent ;  he  offered  his  hand 
to  seal  the  promise,  and  took  one  step  toward  the  fair 
temptation,  —  no    more;    for,   at    the    instant,   up   from 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY. 


203 


below  rose   a  voice,  clear  and  mellow  as  a  silver  horn, 

singing,  — 

"He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet 
That  shall  never  call  retreat ; 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men 

Before  his  judgment-seat ; 
Oh,  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  him; 
Be  jubilant,  my  feet ! 

For  God  is  marching  on." 

The  song  broke  the  troubled  silence  with  a  martial 
ring  that,  to  one  listener,  sounded  like  a  bugle-call, 
banishing  with  its  magic  breath  the  weakness  that  had 
nearly  made  a  recreant  of  him ;  for  the  opportune  out- 
break of  the  familiar  voice,  the  memories  it  woke,  the 
nobler  spirit  it  recalled,  all  made  that  sweet  and  stirring 
strain  the  young  man's  salvation.  Both  stood  motion- 
less, and  so  still  that  every  word  came  clearly  through 
the  sunny  hush  that  filled  the  room.  Rose's  face  grew 
anxious,  a  flash  of  anger  dried  the  tears,  and  the  ex- 
pression which  had  been  so  tender  changed  to  one  of 
petulant  annoyance.  But  Robert  did  not  see  it ;  he  no 
longer  watched  her ;  he  had  turned  towards  the  open 
window,  and  was  looking  far  away  into  the  distance, 
where  seemed  to  lie  the  future  this  moment  was  to  make 
or  mar,  while  his  whole  aspect  grew  calm  and  steady, 
as  if  with  the  sense  of  self-control  came  the  power  of 
self-sacrifice. 

As  the  song  ended,  he  turned,  gave  one  parting  look 
at  the  woman  whom  he  loved,  said,  "  I  have  chosen ! 
Rose,  good-by,"  and  was  gone. 

Out  into  the  beautiful  spring  world  he  went,  blind  to 
its  beauty,  deaf  to  its  music,  unconscious  of  its  peace. 


204  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Before  him  went  the  blithe  singer, —  a  young  man,  with 
uncovered  head,  browTi  hair  blowing  in  the  wind,  thought- 
ful eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  and  lips  still  softly  singing, 
as  he  walked.  This  brother,  always  just  and  gentle, 
always  ready  with  sympathy  and  counsel,  now  seemed 
doubly  dear  to  the  sore  heart  of  Robert,  as,  hurrying  to 
him,  he  grasped  his  arm  as  a  drowning  man  might  clutch 
at  sudden  help  ;  for,  though  the  victory  seemed  won,  he 
dared  not  trust  himself  alone,  with  that  great  longing 
tuorcrinor  at  his  heart. 

"  Why,  Rob  !  what  is  it?  "  asked  his  brother,  pausing 
to  wonder  at  the  change  which  had  befallen  him  since 
they  parted  but  a  little  while  ago. 

"  Ask  no  questions,  Richard  ;  but  sing  on,  sing  on, 
and,  if  you  love  me,  keep  me  fast  till  we  get  home," 
answered  Robert,  excitedly. 

Something  in  his  manner,  and  the  glance  he  cast  over 
his  shoulder,  seemed  to  enlighten  his  brother.  Richard's 
face  darkened  ominously  for  a  moment,  then  softened 
^\dth  siucerest  pity  as  he  drew  the  hand  closer  through 
his  arm,  and  answered,  with  an  almost  womanly  com- 
passion, — 

"  Poor  lad,  I  knew  it  would  be  so  !  but  I  had  no  fear 
that  you  would  become  a  slave  to  that  beautiful  tyrant. 
The  bitter  draught  is  often  more  wholesome  than  the 
SAveet,  and  you  are  wise  to  let  her  go  before  it  is  too  late. 
Tell  me  your  trouble,  Rob,  and  let  me  help  you  bear  it." 

"  Not  now  !  not  here  !  Sing,  Rick,  if  you  would  not 
have  me  break  away  and  go  back  to  her  again." 

His  brother  obeyed  him,  not  Avith  the  war-song,  but 
vrith.  the  simpler  air  their  mother's  voice  had  made  a 
lullaby,    beloved   by  them    as   babies,    boys,    and   men. 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  205 

Now,  as  of  old,  it  soothed  and  comforted ;  and,  thoiigli 
poor  Robert  turned  his  face  away  and  let  his  brother 
lead  him  where  he  would,  the  first  sharpness  of  his  pain 
was  eased  by  a  recollection  born  of  the  song ;  for  he 
remembered  that  though  one  woman  had  failed  him, 
there  still  remained  another  whose  faithful  love  would 
know  no  shadow  of  a  change. 

As  they  came  into  the  familiar  room,  where  every 
object  spoke  of  the  dear  household  league  lasting  un- 
broken for  so  many  years,  a  softer  mood  replaced  the 
pain  and  passion  that  had  struggled  in  the  lover's  heart ; 
and,  throwing  himself  into  the  ancient  chair  where  so 
many  boyish  griefs  had  been  consoled,  he  laid  his  head 
upon  his  arms,  and  forgot  his  manhood  for  a  little  while. 
Richard  stood  beside  him,  with  a  kind  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  to  assure  him  of  a  sympathy  too  deep  and  wise 
for  words,  till  the  fitting  moment  should  appear.  It 
soon  came ;  and  when  the  younger  brother  had  made 
known  his  trouble,  and  the  elder  given  what  cheer  he 
could,  he  tried  to  lead  Robert's  thoughts  to  other  things, 
that  he  might  forget  disappointment  in  action. 

"  Nothing  need  detain  you  now,  Rob,"  he  said  ;  "  for 
the  lo5;s  of  one  hope  opens  the  way  to  the  attainment  of 
another.  You  shall  enlist  at  once,  and  march  away  to 
fight  the  good  fight." 

"And  you,  Rick?  We  have  both  longed  to  go,  but 
could  not  decide  which  it  should  be.  Why  should  not 
you  march  away,  and  let  me  stay  with  mother  till  my 
turn  comes  ?  " 

"  Need  I  tell  you  why?  "We  did  delay  at  first,  because 
we  could  not  choose  which  should  stay  with  the  dear  old 
lady  who  has  only  us  left  now.     But  lately  you  have 


2o6  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

lingered  because  of  Rose,  and  I  because  I  would  not 
leave  you  till  I  knew  how  you  fared.  That  is  all  over 
now  ;  and  surely  it  is  best  for  you  to  put  States  between 
you,  and  let  absence  teach  you  to  forget." 

"  You  are  right,  and  I  am  a  weak  fool  to  dream  of 
staying.  I  ought  to  go  ;  but  the  spirit  that  once  would 
have  made  the  duty  easy  has  deserted  me.  Richard,  I 
liave  lost  faith  in  myself,  and  am  afraid  to  go  alone. 
Come  with  me,  to  comfort  and  keep  me  steady,  as  you 
have  done  all  my  life." 

•'  I  wish  I  could.  Never  doubt  nor  despond,  no  ;  but 
remember  that  we  trust  you,  we  expect  great  things  of 
you,  and  are  sure  you  never  wiU  disgrace  the  name  father 
gave  into  our  keeping." 

"  I'll  do  my  best.  Rick ;  but  I  shall  need  you  more 
than  ever :  and  if  mother  only  knew  how  it  is  with  me, 
I  think  she  would  say,  '  Go.'  " 

"  Mother  does  say  it,  heartily  !" 

Both  started,  and  turned  to  see  their  mother  watching 
them  with  an  untroubled  face.  A  right  noble  old  woman, 
carrying  her  sixty  years  gracefully  and  well,  —  for  her 
tall  figure  was  unbent ;  below  the  gray  hair  shone  eyes 
clear  as  any  girl's,  and  her  voice  had  a  cheery  ring  to  it 
that  roused  energy  and  hope  in  those  who  heard  it ;  while 
the  benignant  power  of  her  glance,  the  motherly  compas- 
sion of  her  touch,  brought  confirmation  to  the  wavering 
resolve  and  comfort  to  the  Avounded  heart. 

With  the  filial  instinct  which  outlives  childhood,  Robert 
leaned  against  her  as  she  drew  his  head  to  the  bosom  that 
could  always  give  it  rest,  and  told  his  sorrow  in  one 
broken  exclamation,  — 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  loved  her  so  !  " 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  207 

"  I  know  it,  dear:  I  saw  it,  and  I  warned  you.  But 
you  thought  me  unjust.  I  desired  to  be  proved  so,  and 
it  has  ended  here.  You  have  loved  like  a  man,  have 
withstood  temptation  like  a  man  ;  now  bear  your  loss  like 
one,  and  do  not  mar  your  sacrifice  to  principle  by  any 
vain  regrets." 

"  Ah,  mother,  all  the  courage,  energy,  and  strength 
seem  to  have  gone  out  of  me,  and  I  am  tired  of  my  life." 

"  Not  yet,  Rob  ;  wait  a  little,  and  you  will  find  that 
life  has  gained  a  new  significance.  This  trouble  will 
change  the  boy  into  a  man,  braver  and  better  for  the 
past,  because,  if  I  know  my  son,  he  will  never  let  his  life 
be  thwarted  by  a  selfish  woman's  folly  or  caprice." 

She  spoke  proudly,  and  Robert  lifted  his  head  with  an 
air  as  proud. 

"  You  arc  right.  I  will  not.  But  you  must  let  me  go! 
I  cannot  answer  for  myself  if  I  stay  here." 

''  You  shall  go,  and  Rick  with  you." 

"But,  mother,  can  we,  —  ought  we,  —  to  leave  you 
alone?"  began  Richard,  longing,  yet  loath,  to  go. 

"  No,  my  boys,  you  neither  can  nor  will ;  for  I  go 
with  you." 

"With  us?  "  cried  both  brothers,  in  a  breath. 

"  Ay,  lads,  that  I  will !  "  slie  answered,  heartily. 
"  There  is  work  for  the  old  hands  as  well  as  for  the 
young  ;  and  while  my  boys  fight  for  me,  I  will  both  nurse 
and  pray  for  them." 

"  But,  mother,  the  distance  and  danger,  the  hardships 
and  horrors  of  such  a  life,  will  be  too  much  for  you.  Let 
one  of  us  stay,  and  keep  you  safely  here  at  home." 

"  Not  while  you  are  needed  elsewhere.  Other  mothers 
give  their  boys  ;  why  should  not  I  give  mine  ?     Other 


2o8  CAMP   AND    PIRESIDE    STORIES. 

women  endure  the  hardships  and  horrors  of  camps  and 
hospitals  ;  can  I  not  do  as  much  ?  You  offer  your  young 
lives  ;  surely  I  may  offer  the  remains  of  mine.  Say  no 
more :  I  must  enlist  with  my  boys.  I  could  never  sit 
with  folded  hands  at  home,  tormenting  myself  with  fears 
for  you,  although  God  knows  I  send  you  willingly." 

"You  should  have  been  a  Roman  matron,  mother, 
with  many  sons  to  give  for  your  country  and  few  tears 
for  yourself,"  said  Richard,  watching  the  fire  of  her 
glance,  and  listening  to  the  steady  voice  that  talked  so 
cheerfully  of  danger  and  of  death. 

"  Ah,  Rob,  the  ancient  legends  preserved  the  brave 
words  of  the  Roman  matrons,  but  they  left  no  record  of 
the  Roman  mothers'  tears,  because  they  kept  them  for 
the  bitter  hours  that  came  when  the  sacrifices  had  been 
made."  And,  as  she  spoke,  two  great  drops  rolled  down 
to  glitter  upon  Robert's  hair. 

For  a  moment  no  one  stirred,  as  the  three  looked  their 
new  future  in  the  face,  and,  seeing  all  its  perils,  owned 
its  wisdom,  accepted  its  duties,  and  stood  ready  to  fulfil 
them  to  the  last. 

Mrs.  Stirling  spoke  first : 

"  My  sons,  these  are  times  to  try  the  metal  of  all  souls  ; 
and  if  we  would  have  ours  ring  clear,  we  must  follow 
with  devout  obedience  the  strong  convictions  that  prompt 
and  lead  us  to  the  right.  Go,  lads,  and  do  your  best, 
remembering  that  mother  follows  you,  to  rejoice  if  you 
win,  to  comfort  you  if  you  fail,  to  nurse  you  if  you  need 
it,  and  if  you  fall  to  lay  you  tenderly  into  your  graves, 
with  the  proud  thought,  '  They  did  their  duty  :  God  will 
remember  that,  and  comfort  me.'  " 

The  faces  of  the  brothers  kindled  as  she  spoke ;  their 


LOVE    AND    LOVAI.TV.  209 

hearts  answered  her  with  a  nobler  fervor  than  the  chiv- 
alrous enthusiasm  of  young  blood,  and  both  made  a  silent 
vow  of  loyalty,  to  last  inviolate  through  all  their  lives, 
as,  laying  a  hand  on  either  head,  that  brave  old  mother 
dedicated  sons  and  self  to  the  service  of  the  liberties 
she  loved. 

II. 

The  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  on  its  march  north- 
ward, to  defeat  Lee's  daring  raid  and  make  a  little  Penn- 
sylvania village  forever  memorable.  The  heights  above 
the  town  were  already  darkened  by  opposing  troops  ;  the 
quiet  valley  was  already  tumultuous  with  the  tramp  of 
gathering  thousands,  and  the  fruitful  fields  already  re- 
ploughed  for  the  awful  human  harvest  soon  to  be  gath- 
ered in.  Every  road  swarmed  with  blue  coats,  every 
hill-side  was  a  camp,  every  grove  a  bivouac,  every  way- 
side stream  a  fountain  of  refreshment  to  hundreds  of 
weary  men  spent  with  the  privations  and  fatigues  of  those 
forced  marches  through  midsummer  heats. 

By  one  of  these  little  brooks  a  dusty  regiment  was 
halted  for  brief  repose.  At  the  welcome  order,  many  of 
the  exhausted  men  dropped  down  where  they  stood,  to 
snatch  an  hour's  sleep  ;  some  sought  the  grateful  shade 
of  an  orchard  already  robbed  of  its  early  fruit,  and  ate 
their  scanty  fare  with  a  cheerful  content  that  made  it 
sweet ;  others  stretched  themselves  along  the  trampled 
borders  of  the  brook,  bathing  their  swollen  feet,  or  drink- 
ing long  draughts  of  the  turbid  water,  which,  to  their 
parched  lips,  was  a  better  cordial  than  the  costliest  wine. 
Apart  from  all  these  groups,  two  comrades  lay  side  by 
side    in    the    shadow  of  the    orchard-wall.     Both   were 


2IO  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

young  and  comely  men,  stalwart,  keen-eyed,  and  already 
bronzed  by  a  Southern  sun,  although  this  was  their  first 
campaign.  Both  were  silent,  yet  neither  slept,  and  in 
their  silence  there  was  a  marked  difference,  —  one  lay 
looking  straight  up  through  the  Avaving  boughs  at  the 
clear  blue  overhead,  with  an  expression  as  serene  ;  the 
other  half  leaned  on  his  folded  arm,  moodily  plucking  at 
the  turf  which  was  his  pillow,  with  now  and  then  an 
impatient  sigh,  a  restless  gesture.  One  of  these  dem- 
onstrations of  discontent  presently  roused  his  comrade 
from  a  waking  dream.  He  sat  up,  laid  a  cool  hand  on  the 
other's  hot  forehead,  and  said,  with  brotherly  solicitude, — 

"Not  asleep  yet,  Rob?  I  hope  you've  not  had  a  sun- 
stroke, like  poor  Blake ;  for,  if  you  are  left  behind,  we 
shall  both  lose  our  share  of  the  fight." 

''  As  well  die  that  way  as  with  a  rebel  bullet  through 
your  head ;  though,  if  I  had  my  choice,  I'd  try  the  last, 
as  being  the  quickest,"  replied  the  other,  gloomily. 

"That  doesn't  sound  like  you,  Rob,  —  you'll  think 
better  of  it  to-morrow,  when  you've  had  a  night's  sound 
sleep.  This  has  been  a  hard  march  for  a  young  soldier's 
first." 

"  How  much  older  are  you  than  I,  either  as  man  or 
soldier.  Rick?"  asked  Robert,  half  petulantly,  half 
proudly. 

"  Three  hours  older  as  a  man,  ten  minutes  as  a  sol- 
dier :  you  know  I  enlisted  first.  Yet  I'm  much  the  elder 
in  many  things,  as  you  often  tell  me,"  said  Richard,  with 
the  smile  that  always  soothed  his  brother's  more  fiery 
spirit.  "  One  of  the  privileges  of  my  seniority  is  the 
care  of  you  ;  so  tell  me  what  harasses  you  and  scares 
rest  away  ?  " 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  311 

"  The  old  pain,  Rick.  All  these  weeks  of  absence 
have  not  lessened  it ;  and  the  thought  of  going  into  a 
battle  out  of  which  I  may  never  come  alive,  without  see- 
ing her  once  more,  makes  me  almost  resolve  to  desert, 
and  satisfy  myself  at  any  cost.  You  cannot  understand 
this,  for  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  love  —  to  have  a 
woman's  face  haunting  you  day  and  night,  to  hear  a 
woman's  voice  always  sounding  in  your  ears  with  a  dis- 
tinctness that  will  not  let  you  rest." 

'•  I  know  it  all,  Rob  !  " 

The  words  seemed  to  slip  involuntarily  from  the  young 
man's  lips,  for  he  checked  himself  sharply,  and  cast 
an  anxious  look  at  his  brother.  But  Robert  was  too 
absorbed  in  his  own  emotions  to  read  those  of  another, 
and  only  answered,  in  a  cheerier  tone,  — 

"  You  mean  mother.  God  bless  her,  wherever  she  is, 
and  send  us  safely  home  to  her !  " 

An  almost  pathetic  patience  replaced  the  momentary 
agitation  Richard's  face  betrayed,  and  his  eyes  turned 
wistfully  towards  the  green  hills  that  lay  between  the 
mother  and  her  boys,  as  he  answered,  with  a  smile  of 
sorrowful  significance,  — 

"  Every  man  is  better  and  braver  for  a  woman's  love  ; 
80,  as  I  have  no  younger  sweetheart,  I  shall  take  the 
dear  old  lady  for  my  mistress,  and  try  to  serve  her  like  a 
loyal  knight." 

"Rick!"  exclaimed  his  brother,  earnestly,  "if  the 
coming  battle  proves  my  last  as  well  as  my  first,  promise 
that  for  my  sake  you'll  befriend  poor  Rose,  —  that  you 
will  forgive  her,  love  her,  care  for  her,  as  if  in  truth  she 
were  my  widow." 

Richard    grasped    the  hand  outstretched  to  him,   and 


212  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

answered,  Avith  a  fervor  that  fully  satisfied  his  brother, 
*'I  promise,  Hob!"  then  added  quickly,  "But  there 
will  be  no  need  of  that ;  for,  if  mortal  man  can  do  it,  I 
will  keep  you,  to  care  for  Rose  yourself." 

Through  the  momentary  pause  that  foUoAved  came  the 
pleasant  sound  of  falling  water. 

"  Hark,  Rob  !  do  you  hear  it?  Give  me  your  can- 
teen, and  I'll  bring  you  a  cool  draught  that  shall  remind 
you  of  the  old  well  at  home." 

Rising  as  he  spoke,  Richard  went  to  the  low  wall  that 
rose  behind  them,  swung  himself  over,  and,  plunging 
down  a  ferny  slope,  found  a  hidden  spring  dripping  mu- 
sically from  mossy  crevices  among  the  rocks  into  a  little 
pool  below.  Pausing  a  moment  to  let  the  shadowy  soli- 
tude of  the  green  nook  bathe  his  weary  spirit  in  its 
peace,  he  turned  to  catch  the  coolest  drops  that  fell ;  but, 
as  he  bent,  the  canteen  slipped  from  his  hand  and 
splashed  unheeded  into  the  pool,  for,  just  opposite, 
through  thickly-growing  brakes,  he  caught  the  glitter  of 
a  pair  of  human  eyes  fixed  fuU  upon  his  face.  An 
instant  he  stood  motionless,  conscious  of  that  subtle 
thrill  through  blood  and  nerves  which  sudden  dano-er  or 
surprise  can  bring  to  the  stoutest  heart.  Before  he  could 
move  or  speak,  the  brakes  were  parted,  and  the  weird, 
withered  face  of  an  old  woman  was  lifted  to  the  light. 
One  of  the  despised  race,  clothed  in  rags,  covered  with 
dust,  spent  with  weariness  and  pain,  she  lay  there,  such  a 
wild  and  woful  object  that  the  lonely  spot  seemed  chosen 
not  as  a  resting-place,  but  as  a  gi-ave.  Leaning  on  one 
arm,  she  stretched  the  other  trembling  hand  toAvards  the 
young  man,  whispering,  Avith  an  assuring  nod,  — 

"  Don't  be  skeered,  honey  ;  I'se  only  a  pore  ole  conty- 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  213 

ban',  gwine  up  tcr  tie  Ian'  ob  freedum,  ef  I  doesn't  drap 
doANTi  by  de  way." 

''Arc  you  sick,  or  hurt,  or  only  tired,  my  poor  soul?" 
asked  Richard,  with  such  visible  compassion  in  his  face 
that  the  woman's  brightened  as  she  answered,  with  a 
cheerfulness  which  made  her  utter  destitution  more  pa- 
thetic, — 

"  Fse  all  dem,  and  starved  inter  de  bargain  ;  but,  bress 
yer,  chile,  I'se  done  got  used  ter  dat,  and  don't  mind  em 
much  ef  I  kin  jes  git  on  a  piece  ter-day.  I'se  ben  porely 
fer  a  spell,  and  layin'  by ;  but  I'se  mendin'  fas',  and  de 
sight  ob  de  blue-coats  and  de  kine  face  is  mos'  as  relishin' 
as  vittles." 

"You  shall  have  all  three,  as  far  as  I  can  give  them 
to  you,"  said  Richard,  offering  the  last  of  his  day's  ra- 
tion, and  sitting  do^vn  opposite  the  poor  old  creature, 
Avho,  muttering  hasty  thanks,  seized  and  devoured  the 
food  with  an  almost  animal  voracity,  which  proved  how 
o-reat  her  need  had  been.  As  the  last  morsel  vanished, 
she  drew  a  long  breath,  uttered  a  sigh  of  satisfaction, 
and,  sitting  more  erect,  said,  with  a  deprecating  gesture 
and  a  grateful  glance,  — 

"  Massa,  I  couldn't  help  forgittiu'  manners,  kase  I'se 
ben  widout  a  mouffle  sence  yisterday,  scept  two  green 
apples  and  de  mint  growin'  ober  dar." 

'•  Have  you  been  lying  here  all  night?  Where  do  you 
come  from,  and  where  are  you  going?  Tell  me,  without 
fear,  and  let  me  help  you  if  I  can." 

"  De  Lord  lub  yer  kine  heart,  chile,  and  keep  yer  fer 
yer  mudder.  My  boys  is  all  gone  now  ;  but  I  knows  de 
feelin',  and  I'll  trus'  yer,  fer's  I  dares.  Yer  see,  I'se 
come   from   Souf  Car'liny,  and  I'se  gwine  to  de  bressed 


214  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Xorf  to  fine  my  ole  man,  what  missis  tuk  wid  licr  when 
she  leP  us  bery  suddin." 

'•  What  part  of  the  North  do  you  want  to  find?  "  asked 
Richard,  eager  to  offer  the  desolate  being  such  help  as 
lay  in  his  power.  She  saw  the  friendly  impulse,  and 
thanked  him  for  it  with  a  look  ;  but  the  distrust  born  of 
many  wrongs  was  stronger  than  the  desire  for  sympathy, 
and  cautiously,  yet  humbly,  she  said,  — 

"  Massa  mus*  please  ter  'scuse  me  ef  I  doesn't  tell  jes* 
whar  I'se  gwine.  My  pore  old  man  is  all  dey's  lef  me  ; 
and  ef  missis  knowed  any  ways  dat  I  was  lookin'  fer 
him,  she'd  tote  him  some  place  whar  I  couldn't  come.  It's 
way  off  bery  fur ;  but  de  name  of  de  town  is  wrote 
down  in  my  heart,  and,  ef  I  lives,  I'll  fine  it,  shore." 

"Where  are  your  boys?"  asked  Richard,  interested 
in  spite  of  the  woman's  uninviting  aspect. 

"•  I'se  had  seven  chil'en,  honey,  but  dey's  ben  sent 
eberywhich  way,  and  I  doesn't  know  whar  dey  is  now, 
scept  de  dead  ones.  My  darters  was  sole  off  years  ago  ; 
one  ob  my  boys  was  whipped  to  def,  and  one  tore  so  wid 
de  houn's  it  was  a  mercy  de  dear  Lord  tuk  him.  Two 
was  put  to  work  on  de  fortycations  down  dar ;  and  the 
las'  one,  my  little  Mose,  starved  in  my  arms  as  we  was 
wadin'  fru  de  big  swamps,  where  we  runned  when  word 
come  dat  de  Yanks  was  comin'  and  we'd  be  free  ef  we 
got  to  um.  It  was  bery  hard  to  leave  de  pore  chile  dar, 
but  dere  was  two  or  free  more  little  grabes  to  keep  him 
comp'ny ;  so  I  come  on  alone,  and.  Glory  Halleluyer ! 
here  I  is." 

"Now,  how  can  I  help  you,  ma'am?"  said  Richard, 
involuntarily  adding  respect  to  pity,  as  he  heard  the 
short,  sad  story  of  the  losses  now  past  help. 


T.OVE    AND    LOYALTY.  215 

"  Ef  yer  has  a  bit  of  money  flat  yer  could  spar,  chile, 
dat  would  'sist  me  a  heap :  I  kin  hide  it  handy,  and  git 
vittles  or  a  lif  when  de  roads  is  bery  bad.  I'se  mos' 
wore  out,  fer  I'se  ben  weeks  a  comin',  kase  I  dunno  de 
way,  and  can't  trus'  folks  much.  Now  the  Yanks  is 
gwine  my  road,  I  wants  to  foUer  fas'  as  I  kin,  fer  I'se 
shore  dey's  right." 

While  she  rambled  on,  Richard  had  taken  out  his 
purse,  and  halving  the  small  store  it  contained,  offered 
it,  saying,  kindly, — 

"  There  old  friend ;  I'd  gladly  do  more  for  you  if  I 
could.  I  may  be  going  where  I  shall  never  need  money 
any  more  ;  and,  you  know,  they  who  give  to  the  poor 
lend  to  the  Lord  :  so  this  much  will  be  saved  up  for  me." 

The  woman  rose  to  her  knees,  and,  taking  the 
generous  liand  in  both  her  dusky  ones,  kissed  it  with 
trembling  lips,  wet  it  with  grateful  tears,  as  she  cried, 
brokenly,  — 

"  Bress  yer,  chile !  bress  yer !  I'se  no  words  white 
'nuff  to  tank  yer  in,  but  I'll  'member  yer  all  my  days, 
and  pray  de  Lord  to  hold  yer  safe  in  de  holler  ob  His 
han'." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am.  What  else  can  I  do  for  you 
before  I  go  ?  " 

"  Jes'  tell  me  yer  name,  honey,  so  I  kin  'mind  de  Lord 
ob  yer  tickerlally ;  fer  dere's  such  a  heap  ob  prayers 
gwine  up  to  Him  dese  bitter  times.  He  mightn't  mine 
sech  pore  ones  as  ole  June's  ef  de  good  name  warn't  in 
um." 

"  Richard  Stirling,"  answered  the  young  man,  smiling 
at  the  poor  soul's  eagerness.  "  Good-by,  old  mother. 
Keep   up   a  stout  heart,  and  trust  the  blue-coats  when 


2l6  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

you  see  them,  till  you  find  your  husband  and  the  happy 
North." 

AVhile  he  refilled  the  canteen,  the  contraband,  with 
the  fine  sentiment  so  often  found  in  the  least  promising 
of  this  affectionate  race,  hastily  gathered  a  delicate  fern 
or  two,  and,  adding  the  one  wild  rose  that  blossomed  in 
that  shady  spot,  offered  her  little  nosegay,  with  a  hu- 
mility as  touching  as  her  earnestness. 

"  It's  a  pore  give,  chile  ;  but  I'se  nuffin'  else  sceptin* 
de  wish  dat  yer'll  hab  all  yer  want  in  dis  world  and  de 
nex'." 

As  Richard  took  it,  through  his  mind  flashed  the 
memory  of  old  romantic  legends,  wherein  weird  women 
foretold  happy  fortunes  to  young  knights  pausing  at  some 
wayside  well,  —  fortunes  to  be  won  only  by  unshaken 
loyalty  to  virtue,  love,  and  honor.  Looking  down  upon 
the  flower,  whose  name  lent  it  a  double  charm  to  him, 
he  said  low,  to  himself,  with  quickened  breath  and 
kindling  eyes,  — 

"  A  propitious  wish  !  May  it  be  fulfilled,  if  I  deserve 
it!" 

Then,  as  the  first  drum-beat  sounded,  he  pressed  the 
hard  hand  that  gave  the  gift,  and  sprang  up  the  bank, 
little  dreaming  how  well  the  grateful  heart  he  left  behind 
him  would  one  day  remember  and  repay  his  charity. 

Three  days  later,  the  brothers  stood  side  by  side  in  the 
ranks  at  Gettysburg,  impatiently  awaiting  their  turn  to 
attack  a  rebel  battery  that  must  be  silenced.  From 
height  to  height  thundered  the  cannon  ;  up  and  down 
the  long  slopes  surged  a  sea  of  struggling  humanity ;  all 
the  air  was  darkened  by  wavering  clouds  of  smoke  and 
dust,  which  lifted  only  when  iron  messengers  of  death 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  21 7 

tore  their  way  through  with  deafening  reports  and  sheets 
of  flame ;  while,  in  the  brief  pauses  that  sometimes  fell, 
the  bands  crashed  out  with  dance-music,  as  if  the  wild 
excitement  of  the  hour  had  made  them  fitting  minstrels 
for  an  awful  "  dance  of  death." 

"  Remember,  Rob,  where  that  goes,  we  follow  while 
we  can,"  whispered  Richard,  glancing  up  at  the  torn  flag 
streaming  overhead. 

"  I'm  ready.  Rick,"  returned  his  brother,  wath  flashing 
eyes,  set  teeth,  and  in  every  lineament  such  visible  re- 
solve to  do  and  dare,  that  one  hour  seemed  to  have  made 
the  boy  a  hero  and  a  man. 

As  the  words  left  his  lips,  down  the  long  line  rang  the 
welcome  order,  "  Forward  !  charge -!  "  and,  with  a  shout 
that  rose  sharp  and  shrill  above  the  din  of  arms,  the 
brave  — th  dashed  into  the  rain  of  shot  and  shell. 
Stirred  by  one  impulse,  the  brothers  followed  wherever 
through  the  smoke  they  caught  the  flutter  of  the  flag,  as 
it  was  borne  before  them  up  the  hill.  More  than  once 
it  dropped  from  a  dead  hand,  to  be  caught  up  by  a  living 
one  before  it  touched  the  ground.  Robert  Stirling's  was 
one  of  these  ;  and,  as  he  seized  the  staiF,  the  battlc- 
madncss  seemed  to  fall  upon  him,  for,  waving  the  banner, 
with  a  ringing  shout  he  sprang  upon  the  wall,  behind 
which  rebel  riflemen  were  lying.  The  sharp  sting  of  a 
ball  in  the  right  arm  reminded  him  that  he  Avas  mortal, 
and  at  the  same  instant  his  brother's  hand  clutched  him, 
his  brother's  voice  called  through  the  din,  — 

"You're  wounded,  Rob!  For  God's  sake  fall  back." 
But,  with  a  grim  smile,  Robert  passed  the  banner  into 
the  keeping  of  his  other  hand,  saying,  as  his  arm  dropped 
useless  at  his  side,  — 


2lS  CAMP    AND    FIRP:SIDE    STORIES. 

"  Not  yet.  Clear  the  way  for  mc,  Rick,  and  let  the 
old  flag  be  the  first  up." 

A  loyal  clieer  from  behind  drowned  the  rebel  yell  that 
rose  in  front,  as  a  blue  wave  rolled  np  and  broke  over 
the  wall,  carrying  the  brothers  with  it.  Above  the  deadly 
conflict  that  went  on  below,  the  Stars  and  Stripes  tossed 
wildly  to  and  fro  ;  but  steadily  tlie  color-bearer  struggled 
higher,  and  steadily  his  body-guard  of  one  went  on  before 
him,  forcing  a  passage  through  the  press,  till,  in  a  single 
instant,  there  came  a  hurtling  sound,  a  deafening  crash, 
a  fiery  rain  of  death-dealing  fragments,  and,  with  an 
awful  vision  of  dismembered  bodies,  wrathful  faces  panic- 
stricken  in  the  drawing  of  a  breath,  and  a  wide  gap  in 
the  swaying  mass  before  him,  Robert  Stirling  was  flung, 
stunned  and  bleeding,  against  the  wall  so  lately  left. 

Cries  of  mortal  anguish  roused  him  from  a  moment's  mer- 
ciful oblivion,  and  showed  him  that,  for  his  brother  and 
himself,  the  battle  was  already  done.  Not  far  away,  half 
hidden  under  a  pile  of  mingled  blue  and  gray,  Richard 
lay  quiet  on  the  bloody  grass,  and,  as  Robert's  dizzy 
eyes  wandered  up  and  down  his  OAvn  bruised  body  to  dis- 
cover whence  came  the  sharp  agony  that  wrung  his 
nerves,  he  saw  that  but  one  arm  now  hung  shattered  at 
his  side  ;  the  left  was  gone,  and  a  single  glance  at  the 
ghastly  wound  sent  such  a  pang  of  horror  through  him 
that  he  closed  his  eyes,  muttering,  with  white  lips,  — 

"  Poor  mother  !  it  will  be  hard  to  lose  us  both." 

Something  silken-soft  swept  across  his  face,  and,  look- 
ing up,  he  saw  that  the  flag  had  fallen  with  him,  and  lay 
half  upright  against  the  wall,  still  fluttering  bravely 
where  many  eyes  could  see  it,  many  Avilling  hearts  press 
on  to  defend  it.     Faithful  to   the  last,  he  leaned  across 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  219 

the  Staff,  and,  making  a  shield  of  his  maimed  body, 
^vaited  patiently  for  the  coming  of  friend  or  foe.  How 
the  battle  went  he  no  longer  knew  ;  he  scarcely  cared ; 
for  now  to  him  the  victories  and  defeats  of  life  seemed 
over,  and  Death  standing  ready  to  bestow  the  pale  cross 
of  the  legion  of  honor,  laid  on  so  many  quiet  breasts  as 
the  loyal  souls  depart  to  their  reward. 

Witli  strange  distinctness  came  the  roar  of  cannon,  the 
sharp,  shrill  ringing  of  the  minie-balls,  the  crash  of 
bursting  shells,  the  shouts,  the  groans,  even  the  slow  drip 
of  his  blood,  as  it  plashed  down  upon  the  stones ;  yet 
neither  hope  nor  fear  disturbed  him  now,  as  all  the  past 
Hashed  through  his  mind  and  faded,  leaving  three  mem- 
ories, —  his  love  for  Rose,  his  brother's  death,  his 
mother's  desolation,  —  to  embitter  the  memorable  moment 
when,  A^th  a  deathly  coldness  creeping  to  his  heart,  he 
leaned  there  bleeding  his  young  life  away. 

To  him  it  seemed  hours,  yet  but  a  few  short  minutes 
passed  before  he  became  conscious  of  a  friendly  atmo- 
sphere about  him,  and,  through  the  trance  of  suffering 
fast  reaching  its  climax,  heard  a  commanding  voice 
exclaim,  — 

"  It  is  Stirling  :  I  shall  remember  this.  Take  him  to 
the  rear,  and  see  that  he  is  cared  for." 

Robert  knew  his  Colonel's  voice,  and,  gathering  up 
both  failing  strength  and  sense,  he  tried  to  stand  erect, 
tried  to  salute  with  his  one  arm,  and,  failing,  said,  with 
a  piteous  look  at  either  ^vound,  — 

"  I  have  done  my  best,  sir." 

"  My  brave  fellow,  you  have  !  What  more  could  you 
do  for  the  old  flag?" 

Something  in  the  glance,  the  tone,  the  words  of  the 


220  CAMP   AND   FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

commander  whom  he  so  loved  and  honored,  seemed  to 
send  new  life  through  the  fainting  man.  His  dim  eye 
kindled,  his  voice  grew  strong  and  steady,  as,  forgetful 
of  the  maimed  body  it  inhabited,  the  unconquerable 
spirit  answered,  fervently,  — 

"  I  could  die  for  it." 

Then,  as  if  in  truth  he  had  done  his  best,  had  died  for 
it,  Robert  Stirling  fell  forward  in  the  shadow  of  the 
flag,  his  head  upon  the  same  green  pillow  where  his 
brother's  lay. 

in. 

"  Here's  the  paper,  and  Fisher  to  read  it  for  us,  boys^ 
Hush,  there,  and  let's  hear  what's  up !  " 

An  instant  silence  reigned  through  the  crowded  ward 
as  the  chief  attendant  entered  with  the  morning  sheet 
that  daily  went  the  rounds.  The  convalescents  gathered 
about  him ;  the  least  disabled  propped  themselves  upon 
their  arms  to  listen ;  even  the  w^eakest  turned  wistful 
eyes  that  way,  and  ceased  their  moaning,  that  they  might 
hear,  as  Fisher  slowly  read  out  the  brief  despatches,  and 
then  the  mournful  lists  of  wounded,  dead,  and  missing. 

Among  the  many  faces  in  the  room,  one  female  one 
appeared ;  a  strong,  calm  face,  with  steadfast  eyes,  and 
lips  grown  infinitely  tender  with  the  daily  gospel  of  pa- 
tience, hope,  and  consolation  which  they  preached  in 
w^ords  of  motherly  compassion.  Still  bathing  and  bind- 
ing up  a  shattered  limb,  she  listened  to  the  reading, 
though  her  heart  stood  still  to  hear,  and  her  face  flushed 
and  paled  with  the  rapid  alternations  of  hope  and  fear. 
Presently  the  one  audible  voice  paused  suddenly,  and  a 
little   stir  ran  through  the  group  as  the  reader  stole  an 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  221 

anxious  glauce  at  the  woman.  She  saw  it,  divined  its 
meaning,  and  in  an  instant  seemed  to  have  nerved  herself 
for  anything.  Sponge  and  bandage  dropped  from  her 
hands,  a  quick  breath  escaped  her,  and  an  expression  of 
sharp  anguish  for  a  moment  marred  the  composure  of  her 
countenance ;  but  she  fixed  a  tearless  eye  on  Fisher, 
asking,  steadily,  — 

*' Are  my  boys'  names  there?" 

"  Only  one,  ma'am,  —  only  one,  I  do  assure  you  ;  and 
he's  merely  lost  an  arm.  That's  better  luck  than  half 
of  'em  have  ;  and  now  it's  got  to  be  a  kind  of  an  honor 
to  wear  an  empty  sleeve,  you  know,"  replied  the  old  man, 
with  a  half-encouraging,  half-remorseful  look,  as  he  con- 
siderately omitted  to  add  the  words,  "  and  seriously 
wounded  in  the  right,"  to  the  line,  "  R.  Stirling,  left 
arm  gone." 

A  long  sigh  of  thanksgiving  left  the  mother's  lips  ; 
then,  with  one  of  the  natural  impulses  of  a  strong  char- 
acter, which  found  relief  in  action,  she  took  up  the  roller 
and  resumed  her  work  more  tenderly  than  ever,  — for  in 
her  sight  that  shattered  arm  was  her  boy's  arm  now,  — 
only  saying,  with  a  face  of  pale  expectancy,  — 

"  Read  on,  Fisher  :  I  have  another  son  to  keep  or  lose." 

So  swift,  so  subtle,  is  the  magnetism  of  human  sym- 
pathy, that  not  a  man  in  all  that  room  but  instantly  for- 
got himself,  his  own  anxieties,  hopes,  fears,  and  waited 
breathlessly  for  the  utterance  of  that  other  name.  Several 
sat  upright  in  their  beds  to  catch  the  good  or  evil  tidings 
in  the  reader's  face  ;  one  dying  man  sighed  softly,  from 
the  depths  of  a  homesick  heart,  "  Lord,  keep  him  for  his 
mother ! "  and  the  standing  group  drew  closer  about 
Fisher,  peering  over  his   shoulder,  that  younger,  keener 


222  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

eyes  might  read  the  words,  and  warn  him  lest  they  left 
his  lips  too  suddenly  for  one  listener's  ear. 

Slowly  name  after  name  was  read,  and  the  long  list 
drew  near  its  end.  A  look  of  relief  already  settled  upon 
some  countenances,  and  one  friendly  fellow  had  turned  to 
nod  reassuringly  at  the  mother,  when  a  hand  clutched 
Fisher's  shoulder,  and  with  a  start  he  stopped  short  in 
the  middle  of  a  word.  Mrs.  Stirling  rose  up  to  receive 
the  coming  blow,  and  stood  there  mute  and  motionless,  a 
figure  so  full  of  pathetic  dignity  that  many  eyes  grew 
very  dim.  A  gesture  signified  her  wish,  and,  with  choked 
voice  and  trembling  lips,  poor  Fisher  softly  read  the  brief 
record  that  one  word  made  so  terrible,  — 

"  R.  Stirling,  dead." 

"  Give  me  the  paper." 

A  dozen  hands  were  outstretched  to  serve  her ;  and,  as 
she  took  it,  trying  to  teach  herself  that  the  heavy  tidings 
were  not  false,  several  caps  were  silently  swept  off,  —  an 
involuntary  tribute  of  respect  to  that  great  grief  from 
rough  yet  tender-hearted  men  who  had  no  words  to  offer. 

The  hurried  entrance  of  a  surgeon  broke  the  heavy 
silence  ;  and  his  brisk  voice  jarred  on  every  ear,  as  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Good-by,  boys  !  I'm  off  to  the  front.  God  bless 
me  !  what's  the  matter?  " 

"  Bad  news  for  Mrs.  Stirling,  sir.  Do  speak  to  her : 
I  can't,"  w^hispered  Fisher,  with  two  great  tears  running 
down  his  waistcoat. 

There  was  no  time  to  speak ;  three  words  had  roused 
her  from  the  first  stupor  of  her  sorrow,  and  down  the 
long  room  she  went,  steady  and  strong  again,  straight  to 
the  surgeon,  saying,  briefly,  — 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  233 

*'  To  the  front  ?     When  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  In  lialf  an  hour.     What  can  I  do  for  you?  " 

"  Take  me  with  you." 

"  Mrs.  Stirling,  it  is  impossible,"  began  the  astonished 
gentleman. 

"  Xothing  is  impossible  to  me.  I  must  find  my  boys, 
—  one  living  and  one  dead.  For  God's  sake  don't  deny 
me  this  ! " 

She  stretched  her  hands  to  him  imploringly ;  she  made 
as  though  she  would  kneel  down  before  him  ;  and  her 
stricken  face  pleaded  for  her  more  eloquently  than  her 
broken  words. 

Dr.  Hyde  was  an  army  surgeon  ;  but  a  man's  heart 
beat  warm  behind  his  bright  buttons,  unhardened  by  all 
the  scenes  of  suffering,  want,  and  woe  through  which  he 
had  been  passing  for  three  memorable  years.  Now  it 
yearned  over  this  poor  mother  with  an  almost  filial  pity 
and  affection,  as  he  took  the  trembling  hands  into  his 
own  and  answered,  earnestly,  — 

"  Heaven  knows  I  would  not  deny  you  if  it  were  safe 
and  Avise  to  grant  your  wish.  My  dear  lady,  you  have 
no  conception  of  the  horrors  of  a  battle-field,  or  the  awful 
scenes  you  must  witness  in  going  to  the  front.  These 
hasty  lists  are  not  to  be  relied  upon.  Wait  a  little,  and 
let  me  look  for  your  sons.  On  my  soul,  I  promise  to  do 
it  as  faithfully  as  a  brother." 

"  I  cannot  wait.  Another  week  of  such  suspense  would 
kill  me.  You  never  saw  my  boys.  I  do  not  even  know 
which  is  living  and  which  is  dead.  Then  how  can  you 
look  for  them  as  well  as  I?  You  would  not  know  the 
poor  dead  face  among  a  hundred  ;  you  would  not  recog- 
nize the  familiar  voice  even  in  the  ravings  of  pain  or  the 


224  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

(liu  and  darkness  of  those  dreadful  transports.  I  can 
bear  anything,  do  anything,  go  anywhere,  to  find  my 
boys.  Oh,  sir,  by  the  love  you  bear  your  mother,  I  im- 
plore you  to  let  me  go  !  " 

The  look,  the  tone,  the  agony  of  supplication,  made 
her  appeal  irresistible. 

"  You  shall,"  replied  the  doctor,  decidedly,  putting  all 
objections,  obstacles  and  dangers  out  of  sight.  "  I'll 
delay  one  hour  for  you,  Mrs.  Stirling." 

Up  she  sprang,  as  if  endowed,  with  the  spirit  and  ac- 
tivity of  a  girl ;  hope,  courage,  gratitude,  shone  in  her 
eyes,  flushed  warm  across  her  face,  and  sounded  in  her 
eager  voice,  as  she  said,  hurrying  from  the  room,  — 

"  Not  an  instant  for  me.  Go  as  you  first  proposed.  I 
shall  be  ready  long  before  the  time." 

She  Avas :  for  all  her  thought,  her  care,  Avas  for  her 
boys,  not  for  herself;  and,  when  Dr.  Hyde  -went  to  seek 
her  in  the  matron's  room,  that  busy  woman  looked  up 
from  the  case  of  stores  she  was  unpacking,  and  answered, 
with  a  sob,  — 

"  Poor  soul !  she's  waiting  for  you  in  the  hall." 

News  of  her  loss  and  her  departure  had  flowm  through 
the  house  ;  for  no  nurse  there  Avas  so  beloved  and  honored 
as  "  Madam  Stirling,"  as  the  stately  old  lady  was  called 
among  the  boys ;  and  when  the  doctor  led  her  to  the 
ambulance,  it  was  through  a  crowd  of  wan  and  crippled 
creatures  gathered  there  to  see  her  off.  Many  eyes  fol- 
lowed her,  many  lips  blessed  her,  many  hands  were  out- 
stretched for  a  farewell  grasp ;  and,  as  the  ambulance 
went  clattering  away,  old  Fisher  gave  expression  to  the 
general  feeling,  when  he  said,  with  an  air  of  solemn  con- 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  225 

viction  in  almost  ludicrous  contrast  to  the  emotional  con- 
tortions of  his  bro\vn  countenance,  — 

"  She'll  find  'em  !  It's  borne  in  upon  me  uncommon 
strong  that  the  Lord  won't  rob  such  a  woman  of  her 
sons,  —  bless  her  stout  heart !  so  give  her  a  cheer,  boys, 
and  then  clear  the  way  !  " 

They  did  give  her  a  cheer,  a  right  hearty  one,  —  though 
the  voices  were  none  of  the  strongest,  and  nearly  as  many 
crutches  as  caps  were  waved  in  answer  to  the  smile  she 
sent  them  as  she  passed  from  sight. 

It  was  not  a  long  journey  that  lay  before  her,  yet  to 
Mrs.  Stirling  it  seemed  interminable  ;  for  a  heavy  heart 
went  with  her,  and,  through  all  the  hopeful  or  despond- 
ent thoughts  that  haunted  her,  one  unanswerable  question 
continually  sounded,  like  a  sorrowful  refrain,  —  "One 
killed,  one  wounded.     Which  is  living?  which  is  dead?" 

All  along  the  road  they  went  two  streams  of  life  con- 
tinually flowed,  in  opposite  directions  :  one,  a  sad  proces- 
sion of  suffering  humanity  passing  hospital,  or  home- 
ward, to  live  or  die,  as  Heaven  willed ;  the  other,  an 
almost  equally  sad  procession  of  pilgrims  journeying  to 
the  battle-field,  to  find  their  wounded  or  to  weep  their 
dead,  —  men  and  w^omen,  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor, 
all  animated  by  a  spirit  which  made  them  as  one  great 
family,  through  the  same  costly  sacrifice,  the  same  sore 
afiiliction.  It  was  well  for  Mrs.  Stirling  that  the  weary 
way  was  a  little  shortened,  the  heavy  hours  a  little  light- 
ened, for  her,  by  the  companionship  of  others  bent  on  a 
like  errand.  In  this  atmosphere  of  general  anxiety  and 
excitement,  accustomed  formalities  and  reserves  were  for- 
gotten or  set  aside  ;  strangers  spoke  freely  to  each  other ; 
women  confidingly  asked  and  gratefully  received  the 
15 


2  26  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

chivalrous  protection  of  men,  and  men  yearning  for  sym- 
pathy always  found  it  ready  in  the  hearts  and  eyes  of 
women  as  they  told  their  sorrows  and  were  comforted. 
Many  brief  tragedies  were  poured  into  Mrs.  Stirling's 
ear ;  more  than  one  Aveaker  nature  leaned  upon  her 
strength  ;  more  than  one  troubled  soul  felt  itself  calmed 
by  the  pious  patience  which  touched  that  worn  and  ven- 
erable countenance  with  an  expression  which  made  it  an 
unconscious  comfort  to  many  eyes  ;  and  in  seeing,  sol- 
acing the  woes  of  others,  she  found  fresh  courage  to  sus- 
tain her  own. 

They  came  at  last,  with  much  difficulty  and  many  de- 
lays, to  the  little  town  in  and  along  which  lay  nine  thou- 
sand dead,  and  nearly  twenty  thousand  wounded  men. 
Although  a  week  had  not  yet  passed  since  the  thunder  of 
the  cannon  ceased,  the  place  already  looked  like  the  vast 
cemetery  which  it  was  soon  to  become  ;  for,  in  groves 
and  fields,  by  the  roadside  and  along  the  slopes,  wherever 
they  fell,  lay  loyal  and  rebel  soldiers  in  the  shallow  graves 
that  now  are  green.  The  long  labor  of  interment  was 
but  just  begun  ;  for  the  living  appealed  more  urgently  to 
both  friend  and  stranger,  and  no  heart  was  closed,  no 
hand  grew  weary,  Avhile  strength  and  power  to  aid  re- 
mained. All  day  supply  wagons  and  cars  came  full  and 
departed  empty ;  all  day  ambulances  rolled  to  and  fro, 
bringing  the  wounded  from  remoter  parts  of  the  wide 
battle-field  to  the  railroad  for  removal  to  fixed  hospitals 
elsewhere  ;  all  day  the  relief-stations,  bearing  the  blessed 
sign,  "U.  S.  San.  Com.,"  received  hundi'eds  of  sufferers 
into  the  shelter  of  their  tents,  who  must  else  have  laid 
waiting  their  turn  for  transportation  in  the  burning  July 
sun  ;  all  day,  and  far  into  the  night,  red-handed  surgeons 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  227 

Stood  at  the  rude  tables,  heart-sick  and  weary  with  their 
hard  yet  merciful  labors,  as  shattered  body  after  body 
was  laid  before  them,  while  many  more  patiently,  even 
cheerfully,  awaited  their  turn ;  and  all  day  mothers, 
-wives,  and  widows,  fathers,  friends,  and  lovers,  roamed 
the  hills  and  valleys,  or  haunted  the  field-hospitals,  search- 
ing for  the  loved  and  lost. 

Dr.  Hyde  was  under  orders ;  but  for  many  hours  he 
neglected  everything  but  Mrs.  Stirling,  going  wath  her 
from  houses,  tents,  and  churches,  to  barns,  streets,  and 
crowded  yards  ;  for  everywhere  the  wounded  lay  thick  as 
autumn  leaves,  —  some  on  bloody  blankets,  some  on  scat- 
tered straw,  a  few  in  cleanly  beds,  many  on  the  bare 
ground ;  and  if  anything  could  liave  added  to  the  bitter 
pain  of  hope  deferred,  it  would  have  been  the  wistful 
glances  turned  on  the  new-comers  from  eyes  that,  seeing 
no  familiar  face,  closed  again  with  a  pathetic  patience  that 
wTung  the  heart.  All  day  they  searched ;  but  nowhere 
did  the  mother  find  her  boys,  nor  any  tidings  of  them ; 
and,  as  night  fell,  her  companion  besought  her  to  rest 
from  the  vain  search,  and  accept  the  hospitality  of  a 
friendly  citizen. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Stirling,  wait  here  till  morning,"  the  doc- 
tor said.  "  I  must  go  to  my  work,  but  will  not  till  I 
know  that  you  are  safe  ;  for  you  can  never  wander  here 
alone.  I  will  send  a  faithful  messenger  far  and  wide,  to 
make  inquiries  througli  the  night,  and  hope  to  greet  you 
in  the  morning  with  the  happiest  news." 

She  scarcely  seemed  to  hear  him,  so  intent  was  her 
mind  upon  the  one  hope  that  absorbed  it. 

"  Go  to  your  work,  kind  friend,"  she  said  ;  "  the  poor 
souls  need  you  more  than  I.     Have  no  fears  for  me.     I 


328  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

want  neither  rest  nor  food  ;  I  only  want  my  boys  ;  and  I 
must  look  for  tliem  both  day  and  night,  lest  one  hour  of 
idleness  should  make  my  comiug  one  hour  too  late.  I 
shall  go  back  to  the  station.  A  constant  stream  of 
wounded  men  is  passing  there  ;  and,  while  I  help  and 
comfort  them,  I  can  see  that  my  boys  are  not  hurried 
away  while  I  am  waiting  for  them  here." 

He  let  her  have  her  will,  well  knowing  that  for  such 
as  she  there  was  no  rest  till  hope  came,  or  exhausted 
nature  forced  her  to  pause.  Back  to  the  relief-station 
they  went,  and,  while  Dr.  Hyde  di'essed  wounds,  issued 
orders,  and  made  diligent  inquiry  among  the  throngs  that 
came  and  went,  Mrs.  Stirling,  with  other  anxious  yet 
hopeful,  helpful  women,  moved  about  the  tents,  preparing 
nourishment  for  the  men,  who  came  in  faster  than  they 
could  be  served.  Through  the  whole  night  she  worked, 
lifting  water  to  lips  too  parched  to  syllable  the  word, 
wetting  wounds  uubandaged  for  days,  feeding  famished 
creatures  who  had  lain  suffering  in  solitary  places  till 
some  minister  of  mercy  found  and  succored  them,  whis- 
pering words  of  good  cheer,  and,  by  the  cordial  comfort 
of  her  presence,  sending  many  a  poor  soul  on  his  way 
rejoicing.  But,  while  she  worked  so  tirelessly  for  others, 
she  still  hungered  for  her  children,  and  would  not  be 
comforted.  No  ambulance  came  rumbling  from  the  field 
that  she  did  not  hurry  out  to  scan  the  new-comers  with 
an  eye  that  neither  darkness  nor  disguise  could  deceive  ; 
not  a  stretcher  with  its  helpless  burden  was  brought  in 
that  she  did  not  bend  over  it  with  the  blessed  cup  of  water 
in  her  hand,  and  her  poor  heart  fluttering  in  her  breast ; 
and  often,  among  the  groups  of  sleepers  that  lay  every- 
where, there  went  a  shadowy  figure  through  the  night, 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  229 

turning  the  lantern's  glimmer  on  each  pallid  face  ;  but 
nowhere  did  Rick  or  Rob  look  back  at  her  with  the  glad 
cry,  "  Mother  !  " 

At  dawn,  Dr.  Hyde  came  to  her.  With  difficulty  did 
he  prevail  upon  her  to  eat  a  morsel  and  rest  a  little,  while 
he  told  her  of  his  night's  attempts,  and  spoke  cheerfully 
of  the  many  mishaps,  the  unavoidable  disappointments 
and  delay,  of  such  a  quest  at  such  a  time  and  place. 

"  "We  have  searched  the  town  ;  and  Blake  and  Snow 
will  see  that  no  Stirling  leaves  by  any  of  the  trains 
to-day.  But  the  hospitals  on  the  outskirts  still  remain 
for  us,  —  besides  the  heights  and  hollows ;  for,  on  a 
battle-field  like  this,  many  men  might  lie  unfound  for 
days  while  search  was  going  on  about  them.  I  have  a 
Avagon  here,  —  a  rough  affair,  but  the  best  I  can  get ; 
and,  if  you  will  not  rest,  let  us  go  together,  and  look 
again  for  these  lost  sons  of  yours." 

They  went ;  and  for  another  long,  hot,  summer  day 
looked  on  sights  that  haunted  their  memories  for  years, 
listened  to  sounds  that  pierced  their  souls,  and  with  each 
hour  felt  the  weight  of  impotent  compassion  weigh  heavier 
and  heavier  upon  their  hearts.  Various  and  conflicting 
rumors,  conjectures,  and  relations  from  the  comrades  of 
the  brothers  perplexed  the  seekers,  and  augmented  the 
difficulties  of  their  task.  One  man  affirmed  that  he  saw 
both  Stirlings  fall ;  a  second,  that  both  were  taken  pris- 
oners ;  a  third,  that  he  had  seen  both  march  safely  away  ; 
and  a  fourth,  that  Richard  was  mortally  Avoundcd  and 
Robert  missing.  But  all  agreed  in  their  admiration  for 
the  virtue  and  the  valor  of  the  brothers,  heartily  wishing 
their  mother  success,  and  unconsciously  applying,  by  their 
commendations,  the  only  balm  that  could  mitigate  her 


230  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

paiQ.  Up  and  down,  from  dawn  till  dusk,  went  the  heavy- 
hoartcd  i)air ;  but  evening  came  again,  and  still  no  sure 
intelligence,  no  confirmed  fear  or  liappy  meeting,  light- 
ened the  terrible  uncertainty  that  tortured  them. 

"  Dear  madam,  we  have  done  all  that  human  patience 
and  perseverance  can  do.  Now,  leave  your  boys  in 
God's  hand,  and  let  me  care  for  you  as  if  you  were  my 
mother,"  said  the  compassionate  doctor,  as  they  paused, 
dusty,  jaded,  and  dejected,  at  the  good  citizen's  hospitable 
door. 

IVIrs.  Stirling  did  not  answer  him.  She  sat  there,  an 
image  of  maternal  desolation,  her  hands  locked  together 
on  her  knee,  her  eyes  fixed  and  unseeing,  and  in  her  face 
a  still,  white  anguish  piteous  to  see.  With  gentlest 
constraint,  her  friend  led  her  in,  laid  the  gray  head  down 
upon  a  woman's  breast,  and  left  her  to  the  tender  care 
of  one  who  had  knoA^na  a  grief  like  hers. 

For  hours  she  lay  where  kind  hands  placed  her,  phys- 
ically spent,  yet  mentally  alert  as  ever.  No  passing 
face  escaped  her,  no  sound  fell  unheeded  on  her  ear,  no 
movement  of  those  about  her  was  unobserved :  yet  she 
neither  spoke,  nor  stirred,  nor  slept,  till  midnight  gath- 
ered cool  and  dark  above  a  weary  world.  Then  a  brief 
lapse  into  unconsciousness  partially  repaired  the  ravages 
those  two  hard  days  had  wrought.  But  even  when  the 
exhausted  body  rested,  the  unwearied  soul  continued  its 
sad  quest,  and  in  her  dreams  the  mother  found  her  boys. 
So  vivid  was  the  vision,  that  she  suddenly  awoke  to  find 
herself  thrilled  with  a  strange  joy,  trembling  with  a 
strange  expectancy.  She  rose  up  in  her  bed,  she  put 
away  her  fallen  hair,  fast  whitening  with  sorrow's  frost, 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  23! 

aud  held  her  brcatli  to  listen  ;  for  a  cry,  urj^ent,  implor- 
ing, distant,  yet  near,  seemed  ringing  through  the  room. 

From  without  came  the  ceaseless  rumble  of  ambu- 
lances and  the  tread  of  hurrying  feet ;  from  within,  the 
sound  of  women  weeping  for  their  dead,  and  the  low 
moaning  of  a  brave  officer  fast  breathing  his  life  away 
upon  his  young  wife's  bosom.  No  voice  spoke,  that 
Imman  ear  could  hear ;  yet  through  the  mysterious  hush 
that  fell  upon  her  in  that  hour,  her  spirit  heard  an 
exceeding  bitter  cry,  — 

"  Mother  !  mother  !  come  to  me  !  " 

Like  one  possessed  by  an  impulse  past  control,  she 
left  her  bed,  flung  on  her  garments,  seized  the  little  store 
of  comforts  untouched  till  now,  and,  without  sign  or 
sound,  glided  like  a  shadow  from  the  house. 

The  solemn  peace  of  night  could  not  so  soon  descend 
upon  those  hills  again  ;  nature's  tranquillity  had  been 
rudely  broken ;  and,  like  the  suffering  humanity  that 
cumbered  her  wounded  breast,  she  seemed  to  moan  in 
her  troubled  sleep.  Lights  flashed  from  hill  and  hollow, 
some  fixed,  some  wandering,  —  all  beacons  of  hope  to 
the  living  or  funeral  torches  for  the  dead.  Many  feet 
went  to  and  fro  along  the  newly-trodden  paths  ;  dusky 
figures  flitted  everywhere,  and  soimds  of  suffering  filled 
the  night-wind  with  a  sad  lament.  But,  upheld  by  a 
power  beyond  herself,  led  by  an  instinct  in  which  she 
placed  blind  faith,  and  unconscious  of  doubt,  or  weari- 
ness, or  fear,  the  solitary  woman  Avalked  undaunted  and 
unscathed  through  that  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

Out  from  the  crowded  to^vn  she  went,  turning  neither 
to  the  right  nor  left,  up  a  steep  path  her  feet  had  trodden 
once  that  day,  straight  to  the  ruined  breastworks  formed 


232  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

of  loose  fragments  of  stone,  piled  there  by  many  hands 
whose  earthly  labor  was  already  done.  There,  gathered 
from  among  the  tllickly-stre^^^l  dead,  and  sheltered  by 
an  awning  till  they  could  be  taken  lower,  lay  a  score  of 
men,  blue  coats  and  gi*ay,  side  by  side  on  the  bare  earth, 
equals  now  in  courage,  suffering,  and  patience.  The 
one  faithful  attendant  who  kept  his  watch  alone  was 
gone  for  water,  that  first,  greatest  need  and  comfort  in 
hours  like  those,  and  the  dim  light  of  a  single  lantern 
flickered  through  the  gloom.  Utter  silence  filled  the 
dreary  place,  till  from  the  remotest  comer  came  a  faint, 
imploring  cry,  the  more  plaintive  and  piteous  for  being  a 
man's  voice  grown  childlike  in  its  weak  wandering :  — 

"  Mother  !  mother  !  come  to  me  I  " 

"Who  spoke?" 

A  woman's  voice,  breathless  and  broken,  put  the 
question  ;  a  woman's  figure  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the 
rude  shelter ;  and  when  a  wakeful  sufferer  answered, 
eagerly,  "  Robert  Stirling,  just  brought  in  dying.  For 
God's  sake  help  him  if  you  can," — a  woman's  face, 
transfigured  with  a  sudden  joy,  flashed  sAviftly,  silently 
before  his  startled  eyes,  to  bend  over  one  low  bed, 
whence  came  the  sound  of  tender  speech,  prayerful 
thanksgiving,  and  the  strong  sobbing  of  a  man  who  in 
his  hour  of  extremest  need  found  solace  and  salvation  in 
the  dear  refuge  of  his  mother's  arms. 


IV. 

They  were  alone  together,  the  mother  and  her  one  son, 
after  weeks  of  suffering  and  a  long,  slow  journey,  safely 
at  home  at  last.     Poor  Rob  was  a  piteous  sight  now,  for 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  233 

both  arms  were  goue,  one  at  the  shoulder,  the  other  at 
the  elbow;  yet  sadder  than  the  maimed  body  was  the 
altered  lace,  for,  though  wan  and  wasted  by  much  suffer- 
ing, a  strong  soul  seemed  to  look  out  at  the  despairing 
ey^^s,  as  it  the  captivity  of  helplessness  were  more  than 
he  could  bear.     A  still  deeper  grief  cast  its  shadow  over 
him,  making  the  young  man  old  before  his  time,  for  day 
and  night  his  heart  cried  out  for  his  brother,  as  if  the  tie 
between   the   twin-born    could   not  be   divided  even  by 
death.     This  longing,  which  the  consolations  of  neither 
tenderness  nor  time   could  appease,   was  now  the  only 
barrier  to  his  recovery.     Vainly  his  mother  assured  him 
that  Richard's  death  had  been  confirmed  by  more  than 
one  account ;  vainly  she  tried  to  comfort  him  by  hopeful 
reminders  of  a  glad  reunion  hereafter,  and  endeavored  to 
rouse  hmi  by  appeals  to  his  filial  love,  telling  him  that  he 
Avas  her  all  now,  and  imploring  him  to  live  for  his  old 
mother's  sake.     He  listened,  promised,  and  tried  to  be 
resigned,  but  still  cherished  an  unconquerable  belief  that 
Richard  lived,  in  spite  of  aU  reports,  appearances,  or  seem- 
ing certainties.     Asleep,  he  dreamed  of  him  ;  awake,  he 
talked  of  him ;  and  the  hope  of  seeing  him  again  in  this 
world  seemed  the  only  thing  that  gave  Rob  patience  and 
courage  to  sustain  the  burden  which  life  had  now  become 
to  him. 

''Mother,  when  shaU  I  be  freed  from  this  dreadful 
bed?"  he  broke  out,  suddenly,  as  she  laid  down  the  book 
she  had  been  reading  to  deaf  ears,  and  brushed  away  a 
lock  of  hair  the  wind  had  blown  across  his  forehead,  for 
hor  watchftil  eye  and  tireless  hand  spared  him  the  pam 
of  asking  any  service  that  recalled  his  loss. 

"Weeks  yet,  dear.     It  takes  nature  long   to  repair 


234  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

such  rents  in  her  fine  handiwork  ;  but  the  wounds  are 
healing  rapidly,  thanks  to  your  temperate  life  and  hardy 
frame." 

"  And  your  devoted  care,  most  faithful  of  nurses," 
added  Robert,  turning  his  lips  to  the  hand  that  had 
strayed  caressingly  from  forehead  to  cheek.  "  Do  your 
best  for  me,  mother,  —  and  you  can  do  more  tlian  any 
other  in  the  world ;  get  me  on  my  feet  again  as  soon  as 
may  be,  and  then,  God  willing,  I'll  find  Rick  if  he's 
above  the  sod." 

Mrs.  Stirling  opened  her  lips  to  remonstrate  against 
the  vain  purpose,  but,  seeing  the  sudden  color  that  lent 
the  wan  face  a  semblance  of  health,  hearing  the  tone  of 
energy  that  strengthened  the  feeble  voice,  and  remem- 
bering how  deep  a  root  the  hope  had  taken  in  the  broth- 
er's heart,  she  silently  resolved  to  let  it  sustain  him  if  it 
could,  undisturbed  by  a  look  or  word  of  unbelief. 

"  We  will  go  together,  Rob.  My  first  search  was  suc- 
cessful ;  Heaven  grant  my  second  may  be  so  likewise.  I 
will  do  my  best ;  and  when  I  see  you  your  old  self  again 
I  shall  be  ready  to  follow  anywhere." 

"  My  old  self  again  !  I  never  can  be  that,  and  why  I 
was  spared  to  be  a  burden  to  you  while  Rick  was  taken 
—  no,  not  taken  —  I'll  neither  say  nor  think  that.  If  he 
were  dead  I  should  either  follow  him  or  find  comfort  in 
the  thought  that  he  was  at  peace  ;  but  he  is  alive,  for 
day  and  night  his  spirit  calls  to  mine,  and  I  must  answer 
it  as  you  answered  me  when  I  cried  to  you  in  what  I 
thought  to  be  my  dying  hour.  Remember,  mother,  how 
many  of  our  men  were  found  after  they  were  believed  to 
to  have  been  killed  or  taken.  John  King's  grave  Avas 
pointed  out  to  his  wife,  you  know ;  and,  when  she  had 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  235 

almost  broken  her  poor  heart  over  it,  she  went  home,  to 
find  him  waiting  for  her  there.  Why  should  not  some 
such  happy  chance  befall  us  ?  Let  us  believe  and  hope 
till  we  can  do  so  no  longer,  and  then  I  will  learn  sub- 
mission." 

His  mother  only  answered  with  a  gentler  touch  upon 
his  head,  for  in  her  heart  she  believed  that  her  son  was 
dead.  Perhaps  the  great  fear  of  losing  both  had  made 
the  loss  seem  less  when  one  was  spared,  or  perhaps  she 
thought  that  if  either  must  go  Richard  was  fittest  for  the 
change,  and  the  nearness  she  still  felt  to  him  made  the 
absence  of  his  visible  presence  less  keenly  felt  than  that 
of  Robert  would  have  been ;  for,  though  as  dear,  he  Avas 
not  so  spiritually  akin  to  her  as  that  stronger,  gentler 
son. 

"Is  Rose  in  town,  mother?"  Avas  the  abrupt  question 
that  broke  a  momentary  silence. 

"Yes,  she  is  still  here." 

"  Does  she  know  we  have  come?" 

"  She  cannot  help  knowing,  when  half  the  town  has 
been  trooping  by  with  welcomes,  messages,  and  gifts  for 
you." 

"  Do  you  think  she  will  come  to  welcome  us?" 

"  Not  yet,  dear." 

"Ah  !  her  pride  will  keep  her  away,  you  think?" 

"  Her  pity,  rather.  Rose  has  generous  impulses,  and, 
but  for  her  mistaken  education,  would  have  been  a  right 
noble  woman.  She  may  be  yet,  if  love  proves  strong 
enough  to  teach  her  the  hard,  though  happy  lesson,  that 
shall  give  her  back  to  you  again." 

"That  can  never  be,  mother.  What  woman  could 
love   such  a  wreck  ;  and  what  right  have  I  to  expect  or 


236  CAMI'    AND    FIKESIDE    STORIES. 

hope  it,  least  of  all  from  Rose?  No,  I  am  done  with 
love ;  my  dream  has  had  a  stern  awakening  ;  do  not  talk 
of  the  impossible  to  me." 

His  mother  smiled  the  w^ise  smile  of  one  who  under- 
stood the  workings  of  a  woman's  heart,  and,  knowing 
both  its  w^eakness  and  its  strength,  believed  that  all  things 
are  possible  to  love.  Perhaps  some  village  gossip  had 
breathed  a  hint  into  her  ear  which  confirmed  her  hope  ; 
or,  judging  another  by  herself,  she  ventured  to  comfort 
her  son  by  prophesying  the  return  of  the  dream  which  he 
believed  forever  ended. 

"  I  will  leave  that  theme  for  a  younger,  more  persuasive 
woman  to  discourse  upon,  when  the  hour  comes  in  which 
you  find  that  hearts  do  not  always  change  w^ith  changing 
fortunes,  that  affliction  often  deepens  afiection,  and  when 
one  asks  a  little  pity  one  sometimes  receives  much  love." 

"  I  shall  never  ask  either  of  Rose." 

"  If  she  truly  loves  you  there  will  be  no  need  of  ask- 
ing, Rob." 

His  face  brightened  beautifully  as  he  listened  ;  his  eyes 
shone,  and  he  moved  impetuously,  as  if  the  mere  thought 
had  power  to  lift  and  set  him  on  his  feet,  a  hale  and 
happy  man  again.  But  weakness  and  helplessness  held 
him  down  ;  and,  with  a  sharper  pang  than  that  of  the 
half-healed  w^ounds,  he  lay  back,  exclaiming  M'ith  a  bitter 
sigh,  — 

"  No  hope  of  such  a  fate  for  me  !  I  must  be  content 
with  the  fulfilment  of  my  other  longing,  and  think  of  poor 
Rick  all  the  more  because  I  must  not  think  of  Rose. 
Oh !  if  my  worst  enemy  should  bring  the  dear  lad  home 
to  me,  I'd  joyfully  forgive,  love,  honor  him  for  that  one 
act." 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  237 

As  Robert  spoke  with  almost  passionate  earnestness,  a 
sliadow  that  had  lain  across  the  sunny  threshold  of  the 
door  vanished  as  noiselessly  as  it  had  come  ;  and  unseen, 
unheard.  Rose  glided  back  into  the  green  covert  of  the 
lane,  saying  within  herself,  as  she  hurried  on,  agitated 
by  the  mingled  pain,  pride  and  passion  of  the  new-born 
purpose  at  her  heart,  — 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Stirling,  love  shall  prove  strong  enough  to 
make  me  what  I  should  be,  and  Robert  shall  yet  forgive 
and  honor  me  ;  for,  if  human  power  can  do  it,  I  will 
bring  his  brother  home  to  him." 

Completely  absorbed  by  the  design  that  had  taken  pos- 
session of  her,  she  hastened  back,  thinking  intently  as 
she  went ;  and,  when  she  called  her  one  faithful  servant 
to  her,  all  her  plans  were  laid,  her  resolution  fixed,  and 
every  moment  seemed  wasted  till  the  first  step  was  taken, 
for  now  her  impetuous  spirit  could  not  brook  delay. 

"  Jupiter,  I  am  going  to  Washington  in  the  morning, 
and  shall  take  you  with  me  —  so  be  ready,"  was  the 
rapid  order  issued  to  the  astonished  old  man,  who  had  no 
ansAver  to  make,  but  the  usual  obedient  —  "  Yes,  missis." 

"  I  am  going  to  look  for  Mrs.  Stirling's  son,  the  one 
who  is  supposed  to  be  dead." 

"  Lors,  missis,  he  is  dead,  shore,  —  ain't  he?" 

"  I  intend  to  satisfy  myself  on  that  point,  if  I  search 
the  prisons,  camps,  hospitals,  and  graveyards,  from  Get- 
tysburg to  Richmond.  I  have  strength,  courage,  money, 
and  some  power,  and  what  better  use  can  I  make  of  them 
than  to  look  for  this  good  neighbor,  and  ease  tlie  hearts 
of  those  who  love  him  best.  Go,  Jupe,  tell  no  one  of 
my  purpose,  make  ready  in  all  haste,  and  be  sure  I  will 
reward  you  well  if  you  serve  me  faithfully  now." 


23S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"Yes,  missis,  —  you  may  'pend  ou  me." 

At  da^vIl  they  were  away,  the  young  mistress  and 
her  old  slave.  No  one  knew  why  they  had  gone,  nor 
whither ;  and  village  rumor  said  Miss  Rose  had  left 
so  suddenly  because  young  Stirling  and  his  mother 
had  come  home.  "When  Mrs.  Stirling  heard  of  the 
departure,  her  old  eyes  kindled  with  indignation,  wliile 
her  voice  trembled  with  grief,  as  she  said  to  her 
son, — 

"I  am  bitterly  disappointed  in  her;  think  of  her  no 
more,  Rob." 

But  Robert  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  neither 
spoke  nor  stirred  for  many  hours. 

In  ancient  times,  young  knights  went  out  to  defend' 
distressed  dames  and  free  imprisoned  damsels ;  but,  in 
our  day,  the  errantry  is  reversed,  and  many  a  strong- 
hearted  woman  goes  journeying  up  and  down  the  land, 
bent  on  delivering  some  beloved  hero  from  a  captivity 
more  terrible  than  any  the  old  legends  tell.  Rose  was 
now  one  of  these  ;  and,  though  neither  a  meek  Una  nor 
a  dauntless  Britomart,  she  resolutely  began  the  long  quest 
which  was  to  teach  her  a  memorable  lesson,  and  make  a 
loyal  woman  of  the  rebel  beauty. 

At  first  she  haunted  hospitals ;  and,  while  her  heart 
Avas  wrung  by  the  sight  of  every  form  of  suffering,  she 
marked  many  things  that  sunk  deep  into  her  memory, 
and  forced  it  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth.  She  saw 
Confederate  soldiers  lying  side  by  side  with  Union  men, 
as  kindly  treated,  almost  as  willingly  served,  and  twice 
conquered  by  those  who  could  smite  hard  like  valiant 
soldiers,  and  then  lift  up  their  fallen  enemy  like  Christian 
ffentlemen.     This  sio;ht  caused  her  to  recall  other  scenes 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  239 

iu  Other  hospitals,  where  loyal  prisoners  lay  perishing  for 
help,  while  rebels  close  by  were  cherished  with  every 
demonstration  of  indulgent  care  by  men  and  women, 
Avho  not  only  hardeaed  their  hearts  against  the  sadder 
sufferers,  bnt  found  a  cruel  pleasure  in  tormenting  them 
by  every  deprivation  and  indignity  their  hatred  could 
devise.  She  had  seen  a  woman,  beautiful  and  young,  go 
through  a  ward  leaving  fruit,  flowers,  delicate  food  and 
kind  words  behind  her,  for  every  Southern  man  that  lay 
there  ;  then  offer  a  cup  of  water  to  a  Northern  soldier, 
and  as  the  parched  lips  opened  eagerly  to  receive  the 
blessed  draught,  she  flung  it  on  the  ground  and  went  her 
way  with  a  scornful  taunt.  This  picture  was  in  Rose's 
mind  as  she  stood  in  a  Washington  hospital,  by  the 
death-bed  of  a  former  neighbor  of  her  own,  hearing  the 
fervent  thanks  uttered  Avith  the  last  breath  he  drew, 
watching  the  sweet-faced  nurse  close  the  weary  eyes, 
fold  the  pale  hands,  and  then  forgetting  everything  but 
the  one  fact,  that  some  woman  loved  and  mourned  the 
lost  rebel,  she  '^  kissed  him  for  his  mother,"  Avhile  Rose 
turned  a^vay  with  full  heart  and  eyes,  never  again  to 
speak  contemptuously  of  Northern  men  and  women. 

She  visited  many  battle-fields  and  graveyards,  where 
the  low  mounds  rose  thickly  everywhere,  and  an  army 
of  brave  sleepers  lay  awaiting  the  call  to  God's  great 
review.  Here,  too,  despite  the  dreary  task  before  her, 
and  the  daily  disappointment  that  befell  her,  she  could  not 
but  contrast  the  decent  burial  given  to  dead  enemies 
with  the  sacrilegious  brutality  with  which  her  friends 
often  tried  to  rob  death  of  its  sanctity  by  mutilation, 
burning,  butchery,  and  the  denial  of  a  few  feet  of  earth 
to  cover  some  poor  body  which  a  brave  soul  had  ennobled 


240  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

by  its  martyrdom.  Seeing  these  things,  she  could  not 
but  blush  for  those  whom  she  once  had  blindly  honored  ; 
could  not  but  heartily  respect  those  whom  she  once  had 
as  blindly  distrusted  and  despised. 

She  searched  many  prisons  ;  for,  when  neither  eloquence 
nor  beauty  could  win  its  way,  money  proved  a  golden  key, 
and  let  her  in.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  same  strong  con- 
trast was  forced  upon  her  ;  for,  while  one  side  fed,  clothed, 
and  treated  their  conquered  with  courteous  forbearance, 
often  sending  them  back  the  richer  and  better  for  their 
sojouna,  the  other  side  robbed,  starved,  tormented,  and 
often  wantonly  murdered  the  helpless  victims  of  the 
chances  of  war,  or  returned  them  worn  out  with  priva- 
tion and  neglect  to  die  at  home,  or  to  endure  the  longer 
captivity  of  strong  souls  pent  in  ruined  bodies.  And 
Rose  felt  her  heart  swell  with  indignant  gi'ief  and  shame, 
as  she  came  out  into  the  free  world  again,  finding  the 
shadow  of  prison-bars  across  its  sunshine,  hearing  the 
sighs  of  long-suffering  men  in  every  summer  wind,  and 
fully  seeing  at  last  how  black  a  blight  slavery  and 
treason  had  brought  upon  the  land  she  loved. 

She  went  to  Hospital  Directories,  those  kindly  insti- 
tuted intelligence  offices  for  anxious  hearts,  and  there 
she  saw  such  sorrowful  scenes,  yet  heard  such  cheerful, 
courageous  words,  that  sympathy  and  admiration  con- 
tended for  the  mastery  in  the  Southern  woman's  breast. 
She  heard  an  old  mother  say  proudly,  as  she  applied  for 
a  pass,  "  I  have  had  seveu  sons  in  the  army ;  three  are 
dead,  and  two  are  Avounded,  but  I'm  glad  my  boys  Avent.'^ 
She  saAv  a  young  wife  come  to  meet  'her  husband,  and 
learn  that  he  was  waiting  for  her  in  his  coffin ;  but 
though  her  heart  was  broken,  there  was  no  murmuring 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  24I 

at  the  heavy  loss,  no  bitter  denunciation  of  those  ^vho 
had  made  her  life  so  desolate,  only  a  sweet  submission, 
and  sustaining  consolation  in  the  knowledge  that  the 
great  sacrifice  had  been  freely  made,  and  the  legacy  of 
an  honorable  name  had  been  bequeathed  to  the  baby  at 
her  breast.  Lads  came  asking  for  fathers,  and  whether 
they  found  them  dead  or  wounded,  the  spirit  of  patriot- 
ism burned  undiminished  in  their  enthusiastic  hearts, 
and  each  was  eager  to  fill  the  empty  place,  undaunted 
by  pain  and  peril  of  the  life.  Old  men  mingled,  with 
their  tearless  lamentations  for  lost  sons,  their  own  re- 
grets that  they  too  could  not  shoulder  guns,  and  fight  the 
good  fight  to  the  end. 

All  these  loyal  demonstrations  sunk  deeply  into  Rose's 
softened  heart,  and  in  good  time  bore  fruit ;  for  now  she 
began  to  think  within  herself,  "  Surely,  a  war  w^hich 
does  so  much  for  a  people,  making  women  glad  to  give 
tlieir  best  and  dearest,  men  eager  to  lay  down  their  lives, 
strengthening,  purifying,  and  sustaining  all,  must  be  a 
holy  war,  approved  by  God,  and  sure  of  victory  in  the 
end."  The  last  touch  needed  to  complete  the  work  of 
regeneration  was  yet  to  come  ;  but  slowly,  surely  this 
long  discipline  made  her  ready  to  receive  it. 

Her  search,  meanwhile,  had  not  proved  fruitless,  for 
after  many  disappointments  one  fact  was  established 
beyond  doubt :  Richard  Stirling  was  not  killed  at  Gettys- 
burg. By  the  merest  chance  she  met,  in  one  of  the 
Union  hospitals  which  she  visited,  a  rebel  lieutenant  who 
told  her  that  the  same  shell  wounded  both  Stirling  and 
liimself,  and  wlieft  the  first  attack  was  repulsed,  that 
Richard  was  taken  prisoner,  and  sent  to  the  reai*  with 
others  of  his  regiment.  An  hour  later,  the  lieutenant 
16 


242  CA^IP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

himself  Avas  taken  by  our  men  when  they  returned  to 
the  charge  ;  but  whether  Stirling  lived  or  died  he  could 
not  tell :  probably  the  latter,  being  severely  wounded  in 
head  and  chest. 

The  smile,  the  thanks  Rose  gave  in  return  for  these 
good  tidings,  and  the  comforts  she  gratefully  provided, 
w^ould  have  made  captivity  dangerously  alluring  to  the 
young  lieutenant  had  she  remained.  But  armed  with 
this  intelligence  she  went  on  her  way  rejoicing,  eager  to 
trace  and  follow  the  army  of  prisoners  that  had  gone 
southward.  Weeks  had  been  consumed  in  her  search, 
and  already  rumors  of  the  horrors  of  the  Libby  Prison- 
house  and  Belle  Island  had  disturbed  and  shocked  the 
North.  Haunted  with  woful  recollections  of  all  the 
varied  sufferings  she  had  seen,  her  imagination  pictured 
Richard  weak  and  wounded,  shivering  and  starving, 
while  she  waited  Avith  full  hands  and  eager  heart  to  save, 
and  heal,  and  lead  him  home.  Intent  on  reacliing  Rich- 
mond, she  besieged  officials  in  high  places  as  well  as  low, 
money  flowed  like  water,  and  every  faculty  was  given  to 
the  work.  It  seemed  as  if  she  had  undertaken  an  impossi- 
bilty';  for  though  all  pitied,  tried  to  help,  and  heartily 
admired  the  beautiful  brave  woman,  no  one  could  serve 
her  as  she  would  be  served ;  and  she  began  to  exercise 
her  fertile  wit  in  devising  some  way  in  which  she  could 
attain  her  object  by  stratagem,  if  all  other  means  should 
fail. 

Waiting  in  her  carriage,  one  day,  at  the  door  of  a 
helpful  friend's  office,  while  Jupe  carried  up  a  message, 
she  was  startled  from  an  anxious  re\"ierie  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  an  agitated  black  countenance  at  the  win- 


LOVK    AND    LOYALTY.  243 

dow,  aud  the  sound  of  an  incoherent  voice,  exclaiming, 
between  hiughtei*  and  tears,  — 

''  Oh,  bress  de  Lord,  and  sing  hallyluyer !  I'se  foun' 
her  !  I'se  foun'  her  !  Doesn't  yer  know  me,  Missy  Rose? 
I'se  old  June,  and  I'se  run  away  ;  but  I  doesn't  kere 
nutiin  what  comes  ob  me  ef  missy'll  jes'  lem  me  see  my 
pore  ole  man  once  more." 

To  Juno's  infinite  surprise,  no  frown  appeared  upon 
the  face  of  her  young  mistress,  and  no  haughty  repri- 
mand followed  the  recognition  of  the  half-ludicrous,  half- 
pathetic  tatterdemalion  who  addressed  her,  but  a  white 
hand  was  put  forth  to  draw  the  new-comer  in,  and  the 
familiar  voice  answered  with  a  friendliness  never  heard 
before,  — 

"  Jupe  is  safe,  and  you  shall  see  him  soon.  Come  in, 
you  poor  old  soul,  come  in." 

In  bundled  the  delighted  creature,  and  began  to  tell 
her  story,  but  stopped  in  the  middle  to  dart  out  again, 
and  fall  upon  the  neck  of  the  bewildered  Jupiter,  as  he 
came  soberly  up  to  deliver  his  message.  Fortunately  it 
was  a  quiet  street,  else  that  tumultuous  meeting  might 
have  been  productive  of  discomfort  to  all  parties  ;  for  the 
old  couple  wept,  laughed,  and  sung,  —  went  down  upon 
their  knees  to  thank  Heaven,  —  got  up  to  embrace,  and 
dance,  and  w^eep  again,  in  a  perfect  abandonment  of 
gratitude,  affection  and  delight.  When  Rose  could 
make  herself  heard,  she  bade  them  both  enter  the  car- 
riage ;  then  dra^ving  down  the  curtains,  and  ordering  the 
coachman  to  drive  slowly  round  the  square,  she  let  the 
reunited  husband  and  wife  give  free  vent  to  their  emo- 
tions, till  from  sheer  weariness  they  grew  calm  again. 

**  We   hopes  missis  will  *scuse  n=!  actin'  so  wild,  but 


244  .CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

'pears  like  we  couldn't  help  it,  comlu'  so  bery  sudden  an' 
undispected,"  apologized  Jupe,  wiping  away  the  last  of 
his  own  and  Juno's  tears  w^ith  the  same  liandkerchief, 
which,  very  properly,  w^as  a  miniature  star-spangled 
banner. 

But  Rose's  own  eyes  were  wet ;  and  in  h^r  sight  there 
was  nothing  unlovely  or  unmannerly  in  that  natural  out- 
break of  affection,  for  she  had  learned  to  feel  for  others 
now,  and  the  same  stern  discipline  which  made  her  both 
strong  and  humble,  taught  her  to  see  much  that  was  true 
and  touching  in  the  spectacle  of  the  gray  heads  bent 
towards  each  other  ;  the  Avrinkled  faces  shining  with  joy  ; 
the  hard  hands  locked  together,  as  the  childless,  friend- 
less old  pair  found  freedom,  happiness,  and  rest  for  a 
moment  in  each  other's  arms.  Like  a  true  woman,  Juno 
calmed  herself  first,  that  she  might  talk ;  and,  embold- 
ened by  the  gracious  change  in  her  once  imperious 
mistress,  she  told  the  story  of  her  wanderings  at  length, 
not  forgetting  the  chief  incident  of  her  long  and  lonely 
flight,  the  meeting  with  Robert  Stirling.  At  the  sound 
of  his  name,  both  Rose  and  Jupe  exclaimed,  and  Juno 
was  rapidly  made  acquainted  with  the  mission  which 
had  brought  them  there.  Deeply  impressed  with  the 
circumstance,  and  a  sense  of  her  own  importance,  the 
good  soul  entered  heartily  into  the  matter,  saying,  with 
the  pious  simplicity  of  her  race,  — 

"De  ways  ob  de  Lord  is 'mazing 'sterious !  butwe's 
boun'  to  b'lieve  dat  He'U  take  special  kere  ob  dat  dear 
chile,  elseways  we  shouldn't  hab  ben  brung  togedder  so 
cur'us.  I  tole  de  blessed  gen'l'raan  I'd  'member  him,  and 
I  has ;  I  prayed  ter  be  spared  ter  see  his  kine  face  agin, 
an'  I  was." 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  245 

''•  Where?  wheu?  Oh,  Jimo,  you  were  surely  sent  to 
me  in  my  last  extremity,"  cried  Rose,  now  trembling 
with  interest  and  impatience. 

"  It  was  dis  way,  missy.  When  dat  dear  gen'l'man 
lef  me  I  creeped  on  a  piece,  but  was  tuk  sick,  an'  a  kind 
fam'ly  kep'  me  a  long  time.  Den  I  come  on  agin  bery 
slow,  an'  one  day  as  I  was  gwine  fru  a  town,  —  I'se  los' 
de  name,  but  it  don't  matter,  —  as  I  was  gwine  fru  dat 
town,  dere  come  a  lot  ob  pris'ners  frum  Gettysbury, 
or  some  place  like  dat,  a  gwine  to  Richmun.  Dear  heart, 
honey,  dey  was  an  orfle  sight,  all  lame,  an'  rags,  an'  hungry, 
an'  de  folks  run  out  into  de  street  wid  bread  ter  feed  um. 
De  guard  was  bery  ugly,  and  wouldn't  let  de  folks  come 
nigh  ter  do  it,  so  dey  jes'  fell  back  and  frowed  de  vittles 
ober  de  heads  of  dem  rebs,  and  de  pore  souls  cotched  it 
as  ef  it  was  de  manny  dey  tells  of  in  de  Bible.  I  helped 
um ;  yes,  missy,  I  couldn't  stay  still  noways,  so  I  runned 
into  a  bake-shop  wid  some  more  women,  and  we  stood  in 
de  winders  and  hev  de  bread  down  to  de  starvin'  creeters 
in  de  street  mighty  hearty,  you'm  be  shore  ob  dat.  I 
had  a  big  loaf  in  my  han',  and  was  lookin'  roun'  for  de 
starvinest  man  dar,  when  I  saw  de  bery  face  dat  looked 
so  kine  inter  mine  yonder  l)y  de  spring.  I  tank  de  Lord 
I'd  kep  de  name  handy,  fer  I  screeched  right  out,  'Oh, 
Massa  Stirlin' !  Massa  Stirlin'  !  dis  yere's  for  you  wid 
my  lub.'  He  looked  up,  he  'membered  me,  he  larfed  all 
over  his  pore  thin  face,  jes'  as  he  done  de  day  I  gib  him 
de  rose.  Oh,  missy  !  he  was  hurted  bad  ;  dey  had  tuk 
away  his  hat,  and  coat,  and  shoes,  and  I  saAv  his  head 
was  tied  up,  and  dere  was  a  great  red  stain  on  de  bosom 
ob  his  shirt,  and  he  looked  so  weak  and  wore  down  dat 
I  jes  bus  out  cryin',  and  forgot  all  'bout  de  bread  till  I 


246  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

was  gwine  to  wipe  my  eyes  wid  it.  Den  I  ^ot  my  wits 
togedder  and  gib  de  loaf  such  a  great  chuck  dat  I  mos* 
fell  out  a  winder,  but  he  got  it ;  I  sawed  him  break  it  in 
bits  and  gib  em  roun'  to  de  pore  boys  side  ob  him,  some 
wid  no  arms  to  grab  wid,  some  too  hurted  to  fight  and 
run  for  it  like  de  res.  Den  I'se  fraid  he  won't  had  nuf 
for  his  self,  so  I  gets  more  and  fros  it  far,  and  he  larfs 
out  hearty  like  a  boy,  and  calls  to  me,  '  I  tank  yer,  ma'am. 
God  bless  yer  ! '  Dat  set  me  cryin'  agin,  like  a  ole  fool 
as  I  is,  and  when  I  come  to  dey  was  movin'  on  agin,  and 
de  las  I  see  ob  dat  dear  soul  he  was  marchin'  brave,  wid 
de  sun  beatin'  down  on  his  pore  head,  de  hot  sand  burnin' 
his  pore  feet,  and  a  sick  boy  hangin'  on  his  arm.  But 
fer  all  dat  he  kep  lookin'  back,  noddin'  and  smilin'  till 
dey  was  clean  gone,  and  dere  was  nuffin  left  but  prayers 
and  sobbin'  all  dat  day  fer  me." 

"  It  is  certain  then  that  he  has  gone  to  Richmond  ;  I 
must  follow.  Jupe,  what  message  did  Mr.  Norton  send 
me  ?  "  asked.  Rose,  remembering  her  unanswered  inquiry 
at  last. 

"He  bery  busy,  INlissis,  elseways  he  come  down  and 
see  yer ;  but  he  says  dere's  no  gittin'  any  passes,  and  de 
only  'vice  he  can  gib,  is  dat  you  goes  to  'Xapolis  and 
looks  dere,  kase  dere's  ben  some  pris'ners  fetched  dere 
frum  Belle  Island,  and  dere's  jes  one  chance  dat  Massa 
Stirlin'  mought  be  'mong  em." 

"  I'll  go  !  Jupe,  order  the  man  back  to  the  hotel. 
There's  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,"  said  Rose. 

"  Oh,  missy,  lem  me  go  wid  you  ! "  implored  Juno.  "  I 
knows  I  don't  look  bery  spectable,  but  I'll  follow  on  hind 
yer  some  ways  :  I'se  good  at  nussin',  I  can  pry  roun*  in 
places  whar  a  lady  couldn't,  and  ef  dat  bressed  gen'l'man 


I.OVE    AND    LOYALTY.  247 

aiu't  dar,  I'll  jes  go  back  and  try  to  fetch  him  out  ob  de 
Ian'  ob  bondage  like  I  did  myself." 

"  You  shall  go,  Juno,  for  without  you  I  should  still  be 
groping  in  the  dark.  Surely  Heaven  helps  me,  and  I 
feci  that  I  shall  find  him  now." 

She  did  lind  him,  but  how  ?  She  went  to  Annapolis, 
where  a  hundred  and  eighty  exchanged  prisoners  had 
just  arrived,  and  entering  the  hospital,  stood  aghast  at 
the  sight  before  her.  Men  who  for  weeks  had  been  con- 
lined  on  that  desert  waste.  Belle  Island,  without  shelter 
or  clothing,  almost  without  food,  and  no  help,  sick  or 
well,  lay  there  dead  or  dying  from  starvation  and  neglect. 
Nurses,  inured  to  many  forms  of  suifering,  seemed  dis- 
mayed at  the  awful  spectacle  of  living  skeletons  famish- 
ing for  food,  yet  too  weak  to  taste  when  eager  hands  tried 
to  minister  to  them.  Some  Avere  raving  in  the  last  stage 
of  their  long  agony  ;  some  were  hopelessly  insane  ;  many 
had  died  unconscious  that  they  were  among  friends  ;  and 
others  were  too  far  gone  to  speak,  yet  dumbly  grateful 
for  the  help  that  came  too  late. 

Heart-wrung  and  horror-stricken.  Rose  could  only  pray 
that  she  might  not  find  Richard  among  these  victims  of  a 
barbarous  revenge  which  made  her  disoA\Ti  and  denounce 
the  cause  she  had  clung  to  until  then,  and  oppressed  her 
with  a  bitter  sense  of  remorse  for  ever  ":ivinn;  it  her  alle- 
";iance.  As  she  stood  stru^^din";  with  a  flood  of  thouohts 
and  feelings  too  strong  for  utterance,  old  Juno,  who  had 
pressed  on  before  her,  beckoned  with  an  eager  hand. 
Going  to  her.  Rose  found  her  bending  over  the  mournful 
ghost  of  a  man  who  lay  there  like  one  dead,  with  hollow 
eyes  fast  shut,  the  pinched  mouth  breathless,  the  wasted 
limbs  stifi"  and  cold,  and  no  trace  of  Richard  Stirliuf?  vis- 


24S  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

ible,  for  the  frightful  emaciation,  the  long,  neglected  hair 
and  beard,  so  changed  him  that  his  own  mother  might 
have  passed  by  without  a  glance  of  recognition. 

"  It  is  not  he,  Juno.  Poor  soul,  poor  soul !  cover  his 
face,  and  let  him  rest,"  siglied  Rose,  with  tremulous  lips, 
bending  to  lay  her  delicate  handkerchief  over  the  piteous 
face,  one  glance  at  which  had  made  her  eyes  too  dim  for 
seeing,  and  seemed  to  utter  a  mute  reproach,  as  if  the 
loss  of  this  life  lay  at  her  door. 

"It  is  de  dear  boy,  missy;  I'se  shore  ob  it,  fer  see 
Avhat  I  foun'  in  dis  faded  little  bag  dat  lay  on  his  heart, 
when  I  feeled  to  see  if  dere  was  any  beat  lef.  Here's  a 
bit  ob  gray  har  in  a  paper  wid  somefin  wrote  on  it,  an' 
here's  de  flower  I  gib  him.  I  knows  it  by  de  red  string 
I  pulled  out  ob  my  old  shawl  to  tie  de  posy  wid.  Ah, 
honey,  I  specks  he  smiled  so  when  he  tuk  de  rose,  an' 
kep  it,  kase  he  tort  ob  you,  and  lubbed  you  bery  dear." 

The  little  case  and  the  dead  flower  fell  from  Rose's 
hand,  as  she  read  these  words  upon  the  worn  paper  that 
held  the  gray  curl :  "  For  Rick  from  mother.  May  10, 
1863  "  ;  and  she  laid  her  warm  cheek  doAvn  beside  that 
chilly  one,  crying  through  the  heartiest,  happiest  tears 
she  ever  shed. 

"  Oh,  Richard,  have  I  come  too  late?  " 

Something  in  the  touch  of  tender  lips,  the  magnetism 
of  a  living,  lo^dng  heart,  seemed  to  arrest  the  weary 
spirit  in  its  flight,  and  call  it  back  to  life  by  the  power  of 
that  passion  which  outlives  death. 

"  De  heart's  a  beatin',  and  de  bref's  a  comin',  shore. 
Lif  up  his  head,  honey !  Jupe,  fan  him  bery  kereful, 
while  I  gets  a  drop   ob  brandy  down  his  frote,  an'  rubs 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  249 

desc  pore  Laiis  dat  is  all  bones.  Dear  boy,  we's  got  yer, 
Def  may  go  'way  now  !  " 

Juno  both  worked  and  spoke  as  if  the  young  man  were 
her  son  ;  for  she  forgot  all  differences  of  rank,  color,  and 
condition,  in  her  glad  gratitude  to  nurse  him  like  a 
mother.  Rose  laid  the  unconscious  head  upon  her 
bosom,  and,  brushing  back  the  tangled  hair,  watched  the 
faint  flutter  of  the  eyelids,  as  life  came  creeping  back, 
and  hope  dawned  again  for  both  of  them  ;  for  she  felt  that 
Richard's  restoration  would  win  Robert's  pardon,  and  be 
her  best  atonement  for  the  past. 

It  was  long  before  he  was  himself  again,  but  Juno 
never  left  him,  day  or  night ;  Jupe  was  a  sleepless,  tire- 
less guard,  and  Rose  ministered  to  him  with  heart  as 
well  as  hand,  seeming  to  hold  death  at  bay  by  the  sheer 
force  of  an  indomitable  will.  He  knew  the  forms  about 
him,  at  last ;  and  the  happiest  moment  of  Rose's  life  was 
that  in  which  he  looked  up  in  her  face  with  eyes  that 
blessed  her  for  her  care,  and  whispered  feebly,  — 

"  I  thought  I  had  suffered  much,  but  this  atones  for 
all !  " 

After  that,  every  hour  brought  fresh  strength,  and 
renewed  assurances  that  the  danger  had  gone  by.  At 
this  point  Juno  discovered  that  her  soul  was  stronger 
than  her  body,  for  the  latter  gave  out,  and  Rose  com- 
manded her  to  rest. 

"  I  need  you  no  longer,  for  my  work  is  nearly  done," 
she  said.  "Jupe,  I  told  you  that  if  you  served  me  well 
you  sliould  be  rewarded,  and  I  will  keep  my  word.  This 
paper  assures  your  freedom,  and  your  wife's,  forever  ;  this 
purse  contains  a  little  fortune,  to  keep  you  above  want 
while  you  live.     Take  the  late  gift,  my  good  old  friends. 


250  CAMP    AND    FIllESIDE    STORIES. 

and  forgive  me  for  the  wrong  I  have  done  you  all  these 
years." 

Rose's  subdued  yet  earnest  manner,  and  the  magnitude 
of  the  gift,  restrained  the  rapture  of  the  old  pair,  which 
found  vent  only  in  a  demonstration  that  touched  Rose 
more  than  a  stream  of  thanks  and  blessings.  Holding 
fast  the  precious  paper  that  gave  them  freedom  only  at 
life's  close,  they  put  b^ck  the  money,  feeling  too  rich  in 
that  other  gift  to  fear  want,  and,  taking  one  of  the  white 
hands  in  their  black  ones,  they  kissed  them,  wet  them 
with  grateful  tears,  and  clung  to  them,  imploring  to  be 
allowed  to  stay  with  her,  to  serve  her,  love  her,  and  be 
her  faithful  followers  to  the  end. 

Much  moved,  she  gave  the  promise  ;  and  happier  than 
any  fabled  king  and  queen  of  Olympus  were  the  old 
freedman  and  his  wife,  when  they  went  away  to  nurse 
each  other  for  a  little  while,  at  their  mistress's  desire, 
leaving  her  to  tend  the  "  General,"  as  Jupe  insisted  upon 
calling  Richard,  laboring  under  a  delusion  that,  be- 
cause he  had  suffered  much,  he  must  have  received  honor 
and  promotion. 

Very  quiet,  useful  hours  were  those  that  followed,  and 
these  proved  the  sincerity  of  her  amendment,  by  the  zeal 
with  which  she  performed  many  a  distasteful  duty  for 
Richard  and  his  companions  in  misfortune,  the  patience 
with  which  she  bore  many  discomforts,  the  energy  Avith 
which  she  met  and  conquered  all  obstacles  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  her  purpose.  Unconsciously  Richard  did  more 
for  her  than  she  for  him  :  because,  though  unseen,  his 
work  was  both  more  difficult  and  more  enduring  than  her 
own.  She  nursed  and  nourished  an  exhausted  body ; 
he,  by  tlie  influence  of  character,  soothed  and  sustained 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  25 1 

an  anxious  soul,  helped  Rose  to  find  her  better  self,  and, 
througli  the  force  of  a  fair  example,  inspired  her  with 
noble  emulation.  They  talked  much,  at  first :  Rose  was 
the  speaker,  and  an  eloquent  one ;  for  Richard  was  very- 
like  his  brother,  as  she  had  last  seen  him,  and  she  felt  the 
charm  of  that  resemblance.  Then,  .as  Richard  gained 
strength,  he  loved  to  lie  conversing  upon  many  themes, 
too  happy  in  her  presence  to  remember  the  sad  past,  or  to 
cherish  a  fear  for  the  unknown  future.  Having  lived  a 
deep  and  earnest  life  of  late.  Rose  found  herself  fitted  to 
comprehend  the  deep  and  earnest  thoughts  that  found 
expression  in  those  confidential  hours  ;  for  if  ever  men 
and  women  are  their  simplest,  sincerest  selves,  it  is  when 
suffering  softens  the  one,  and  sympathy  strengthens  the 
other. 

Often  Rose  caught  a  wistful  look  fixed  on  her  face,  as 
she  read  or  worked  beside  her  patient,  in  the  little  room 
now  set  apart  for  him,  and  she  could  not  but  interpret  it 
aright,  since  the  story  of  the  rose  had  given  her  a  key  to 
that  locked  heart.  Poor  Richard  loved  her  still,  and  was 
beginning  to  hope  that  Juno's  wish  might  be  fulfilled,  for 
Rose  seldom  spoke  of  Rob,  had  shivered  and  turned 
pale  when  she  told  his  great  misfortune,  and,  man-like, 
Richard  believed  that  her  love  had  changed  to  pity,  and 
might,  in  time,  be  given  to  Robert's  nnmarrcd  counter- 
part. He  was  very  slow  to  receive  this  hope,  very  re- 
morseful when  he  thought  of  Rob,  and  very  careful  not 
to  betray  the  troubled  joy  that  was  doing  more  toward 
his  recovery  than  any  cordial  that  passed  his  lips.  But, 
when  the  time  came  for  them  to  think  of  turning  home- 
ward, he  felt  that  he  could  not  meet  his  brother  Avith  any 
secret  hidden  in  his  heart ;  and,  with  the  courage  that 


252  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

'vvas  as  natural  to  him  as  his  patience,  he  ended  his  sus- 
pense, and  manfully  ^--ent  to  meet  his  fate. 

Eose  had  been  reading  him  to  sleep  one  night,  and 
fancying,  from  his  stillness,  that  she  had  succeeded,  she 
closed  her  book,  and  sat  watching  the  thin  face  that  looked 
so  pale  and  peaceful  in  the  shaded  light  that  filled  the 
room.  Not  long  did  she  study  it,  for  suddenly  the  clear 
eyes  opened,  and,  as  if  some  persistent  thought  found 
utterance,  almost  against  his  will,  he  asked,  — 

"  Rose,  why  did  you  come  to  find  me?" 

She  divined  the  true  meaning  of  the  look,  the  words, 
with  a  woman's  instinct,  and  answered  both  with  the 
perfect  truth  which  they  deserved. 

"  Because  your  brother  wanted  you." 

"  For  his  sake  you  came  for  me?" 

"  Yes,  Richard." 

"  Then,  Rose,  you  —  you  love  him  still?  " 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  when  he  needs  me  more  than 
ever  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Richard's  face  changed  terribly ;  then 
something  seemed  to  gush  warm  across  his  heart,  send- 
ing a  generous  glow  to  cheek  and  forehead,  banishing 
the  despair  from  his  eyes,  and  lending  to  his  voice  a 
heartiness  unheard  before. 

"  Forgive  me.  Rose  ;  you  are  a  nobler  woman  than  I 
thought  you.  He  does  need  you  more  than  ever ;  give 
him  your  whole  heart,  and  help  me  to  make  his  hard  life 
happy." 

"I  will  —  God  bless  my  brother  Rick!"  and,  bend- 
ing, Rose  kissed  him  softly  on  the  forehead,  the  only 
token  that  ever  betrayed  her  knowledge  of  his  love,  the 


LOVE    AND    LOYAI.TV.  253 

only  atonement  she  had  it  in  her  power  to  make  him  for 
his  loss. 

Richard  held  the  beautiful,  beloved  face  close  to  his 
own  an  instant,  then  turned  his  head  aw^ay,  and  Rose 
heard  one  strong,  deep  sob,  but  never  any  word  of  lam- 
entation or  reproach.  Too  much  moved  to  speak,  yet 
too  full  of  sympathy  to  leave  him,  she  leaned  her  head 
upon  the  arm  of  the  cushioned  chair  in  which  she  sat, 
and  soon  forgot  the  lapse  of  time  in  thoughts  both  sweet 
and  bitter.  A  light  rustle  and  a  faint  perfume  recalled 
her  to  the  present ;  and  looking,  without  moving,  she  saw 
Richard's  almost  transparent  hand  hold  the  dead  rose  in 
the  flame  of  the  lamp  until  its  ashes  fluttered  to  the 
ground ;  she  saw  him  watch  the  last  spark  fade,  and 
shiver  as  he  glanced  drearily  about  the  room,  as  if  all  the 
warmth  and  beauty  had  died  out  of  his  life,  leaving  it 
very  desolate  and  dark ;  she  saw  him  turn  toward  her 
while  his  face  grew^  clear  and  calm  again,  and,  believing 
himself  unseen,  he  lifted  a  little  fold  of  her  dress  to  his 
lips,  as  if  he  bade  the  woman  whom  he  loved  a  long  fare- 
well ;  then  he  lay  down  like  one  spent  with  some  sore 
struggle,  which,  though  hardly  fought,  had  been  wholly 
Avon. 

At  that  sight  Rose's  tears  fell  fast ;  and,  long  after 
Richard  slept  the  sleep  of  utter  w^eariness,  she  still  sat 
there,  with  her  head  pillowed  on  her  arms,  keeping  a 
vigil  in  which  she  consecrated  her  -whole  life  to  the  ser- 
vice of  that  cause  which,  through  many  trials,  had  taught 
her  a  truer  loyalty,  a  purer  love. 


In  the  ruddy  glow  of  an  October  sunset.  Rose  led 
Richard  across  the  threshold  of  the  dear  old  home,  and 


254  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

gave  him  to  his  mother's  arms.  At  first,  a  joyful  tumult 
reigned ;  then,  as  the  wonder,  gratitude,  and  joy  sub- 
sided, all  turned  to  Rose.  She  stood  apart,  silently  re- 
ceiving her  reward  ;  and,  though  worn  and  weary  with 
her  long  labor,  never  had  she  seemed  so  beautiful  as 
then ;  for  the  once  proud  eyes  were  grown  sweetly 
humble,  the  serenity  of  a  great  content  shone  in  her  face, 
and  a  fine  blending  of  gentleness  and  strength  gave  the 
crowning  grace  to  one  who  was  now,  in  truth,  a  "right 
noble  woman." 

The  mother  and  her  sons  regarded  her  in  silence  for  a 
moment,  and  silently  she  looked  back  at  them  with  a 
glance,  a  gesture  that  said  more  eloquently  than  any 
words  :  "  Forgive  me,  love  me,  and  forget  the  past."  Mrs. 
Stirling  opened  her  arms,  and  Rose  clung  to  that  moth- 
erly bosom,  feeling  that  no  daughter  could  be  dearer 
than  she  was  now,  that  all  her  pain  and  penitence  was 
known,  and  her  reward  secure  at  last. 

"  Rose,  I  have  but  one  thing  precious  enough  to  give 
you  in  return  for  the  great  service  you  have  so  beautifully 
conferred  upon  me.  If  I  read  your  heart  aright,  this  is 
the  prize  for  which  you  have  striven  and  suffered  ;  and, 
loving  you  the  dearer  for  your  constancy,  I  freely  give 
one-half  my  treasure  to  your  keeping,  sure  that  you  will 
find  life  richer,  happier,  and  better  for  your  devotion  to 
the  man  you  love." 

Rose  understood  her,  —  felt  that  the  mother  wished  to 
prove  the  woman's  pride,  the  lover's  truth,  —  and  well 
she  stood  the  test ;  for  going  straight  to  Robert,  who  had 
scarcely  spoken,  but  whose  eye  had  never  left  her  since 
she   came,  she  said,  clearly  and   steadily,  —  too  earnest 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY.  255 

for  maiden  shame,  too  humble  for  false  pride,  too  hope- 
ful for  any  fear,  — 

"Robert,  you  once  said  you  would  never  ask  either 
pity  or  love  of  me.  Will  you  accept  both  when  I  offer 
them  humbly,  heartily,  and  tell  you  that  all  my  happiness, 
my  hopes,  my  peace,  are  now  bound  up  in  you?  " 

Poor  Rob  !  he  had  no  arms  in  which  to  receive  her, 
no  words  wherewith  to  welcome  her,  for  speech  failed 
him  when  those  tender  eyes  looked  up  into  his  own,  and 
she  so  generously  gave  him  the  desire  of  his  life.  He 
only  bowed  his  head  before  her,  deliciously  oppressed 
with  the  happiness  this  double  gift  conferred.  Rose  read 
his  heart,  and  with  a  loving  woman's  skill  robbed  the  mo- 
ment of  all  its  bitterness  and  left  only  its  sweetness  ;  for, 
putting  both  arms  about  his  neck,  she  whispered  like  a 
pleading  child, — 

"  Dear,  let  me  stay  ;  I  am  so  happy  here  !  " 

There  was  but  one  answer  to  that  appeal ;  and  as  it 
was  given,  Mrs.  Stirling  turned  to  beckon  Richard  from 
the  room,  glad  to  have  him  all  her  o\\ti  again.  He  had 
already  stolen  out,  and  standing  in  the  autumn  sunshine, 
looked  across  the  quiet  river  with  a  countenance  as  cheer- 
ful as  the  sunshine,  as  tranquil  as  the  stream.  His 
mother  scanned  his  fiice  with  a  searching  yet  sorrowful 
eye,  that  dimmed  with  sudden  dew  as,  reading  its  signfi- 
cance,  her  son  met  it  with  a  glance  that  set  her  anxiety 
■  at  rest. 

"  Have  no  fears  for  me,  mother ;  I  have  fought  my 
double  fight,  and  am  freed  from  my  double  captivity. 
The  lost  love  is  not  dead,  but  sleeping,  never  to  waken 
in  this  world,  and  its  grave  is  growing  green." 

"  Ah,  my  good  son,  the  world  will  see  Rob's  sacrifice, 


256  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

and  honor  him  for  it,  but  yours  is  the  greater  one,  for 
through  many  temptations  you  have  been  loyal,  both  to 
your  country  and  yourself.  God  and  your  mother  love 
and  honor  you  for  that,  ahhough  to  other  eyes  you  seem 
to  stand  forgotten  and  alone." 

But  Richard  drew  the  gray  head  tenderly,  reverently 
down  upon  his  breast,  and  answered,  with  the  cheerful 
smile  unchanged,  — 

"  Never  alone  while  I  have  you,  mother.'* 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA; 

OR,   THE  LITTLE   OLD   SHOE. 


HOW   IT    WAS    LOST. 

AMONG  gi-een  New-England  hills  stood  an  ancient 
house,  many-gabled,  mossy-roofed,  and  quaintly 
built,  but  picturesque  and  pleasant  to  the  eye ;  for  a 
brook  ran  babbling  through  the  orchard  that  encompassed 
it  about,  a  garden-plot  stretched  upward  to  the  whisper- 
ing birches  on  the  slope,  and  patriarchal  elms  stood  sen- 
tinel upon  the  lawn,  as  they  had  stood  almost  a  century 
ago,  when  the  Revolution  rolled  that  way  and  found 
them  young. 

One  summer  morning,  when  the  air  was  full  of  coun- 
try sounds,  —  of  mowers  in  the  meadow,  blackbirds  by 
the  brook,  and  the  low  of  cattle  on  the  hill-side,  the  old 
liouse  Avore  its  cheeriest  aspect,  and  a  certain  humble 
history  began. 

"  Nan  ! " 

"  Yes,  Di." 

And  a  head,  brown-locked,  blue-eyed,  soft-featured, 
looked  in  at  the  open  door  in  answer  to  the  call. 

"Just  bring  me  the  third  volume  of  '  Wilhelm  Meis- 
t(M-,'  there's  a  dear.  It's  hardly  worth  while  to  rouse  such 
a  lestless  gliost  as  I,  wlien  I'm  once  fairly  laid." 

(257) 


258  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

As  she  spoke,  Di  pushed  up  her  bhick  braids,  thumped 
the  pillow  of  the  couch  Avhere  she  was  lying,  and  with 
eager  eyes  went  down  the  last  page  of  her  book. 

"  Nan ! " 

"  Yes,  Laura,"  replied  the  girl,  coming  back  with  the 
third  volume  for  the  literary  cormorant,  who  took  it  with 
a  nod,  still  too  intent  upon  the  "  Confessions  of  a  Fair 
Saint "  to  remember  the  failings  of  a  certain  plain  sinner. 

"  Don't  forget  the  Italian  cream  for  dinner.  I  depend 
upon  it ;  for  it's  the  only  thing  fit  for  me  this  hot  weather." 

And  Laura,  the  cool  blonde,  disposed  the  folds  of  her 
white  gown  more  gracefully  about  her,  and  touched  up 
the  eyebrow  of  the  Minerva  she  was  drawing. 

"  Little  daughter  !  " 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  Let  me  have  plenty  of  clean  collars  in  my  bag,  for  I 
must  go  at  three  ;  and  some  of  you  bring  me  a  glass  of 
cider  in  about  an  hour,  —  I  shall  be  in  the  lower  garden." 

The  old  man  went  away  into  his  imaginary  paradise, 
and  Nan  into  that  domestic  purgatory  on  a  summer  day, 
—  the  kitchen.  There  were  vines  about  the  windows, 
sunshine  on  the  floor,  and  order  everywhere  ;  but  it  was 
haunted  by  a  cooking-stove,  that  family  altar  whence  such 
varied  incense  rises  to  appease  the  appetite  of  household 
gods,  before  which  such  dire  incantations  are  pronounced 
to  ease  the  wrath  and  woe  of  the  priestess  of  the  fire, 
and  about  which  often  linger  saddest  memories  of  wasted 
temper,  time,  and  toil. 

Nan  was  tired,  having  risen  with  the  birds,  hurried, 
having  many  cares  those  happy  little  housewives  never 
know,  and  disappointed  in  a  hope  that  hourly  "  dwindled, 
peaked,  and  pined."     She  was  too  young  to   make  the 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  239 

auxious  lines  upou  her  forehead  seem  at  home  there,  too 
patient  to  be  burilencd  with  the  hibor  others  should  have 
shared,  too  light  of  heart  to  be  pent  up  when  earth  and 
sky  were  keeping  a  blithe  holiday.  But  she  was  one  of 
that  meek  sisterhood  who,  thinking  humbly  of  themselves, 
believe  they  are  honored  by  being  spent  in  the  service  of 
less  conscientious  souls,  whose  careless  thanks  seem 
quite  reward  enough. 

To  and  fro  she  went,  silent  and  diligent,  giving  the 
grace  of  willingness  to  every  humble  or  distasteful  task 
the  day  had  brought  her ;  but  some  malignant  sprite 
seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  her  kingdom,  for 
rebellion  broke  out  everywhere.  The  kettles  would  boil 
over  most  obstreperously,  —  the  mutton  refused  to  cook 
with  the  meek  alacrity  to  be  expected  from  the  nature  of 
a  sheep,  —  the  stove,  with  unnecessary  warmth  of  tem- 
per, Avould  glow  like  a  fiery  furnace,  —  the  irons  would 
scorch,  —  the  linens  would  dry,  —  and  sph-its  would  fail, 
though  patience  never. 

Nan  tugged  on,  growing  hotter  and  wearier,  more 
hurried  and  more  hopeless,  till  at  last  the  crisis  came  ;  for 
in  one  fell  moment  she  tore  her  gown,  burnt  her  hand, 
and  smutched  the  collar  she  was  preparing  to  finish  in 
the  most  unexceptionable  style.  Then,  if  she  had  been 
a  nervous  woman,  she  would  have  scolded ;  being  a 
gentle  girl,  she  only  "  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept." 

"  Behold,  she  watereth  her  linen  with  salt  tears,  and 
bewaileth  herself  because  of  much  tribulation.  But,  lo  ! 
help  Cometh  from  afar :  a  strong  man  bringeth  lettuce 
wherewith  to  stay  her,  plucketh  berries  to  comfort  her 
withal,  and  clasheth  cymbals  that  she  may  dance  for  joy." 

The  voice  came  from  the  porch,  and,  with  her  hope 


26o  CAMP    AND    FIKKSIDE    STUKIL-S. 

fulfilled,  Nan  looked  up  to  greet  John  Lord,  the  house- 
friend,  who  stood  there  with  a  basket  on  his  arm  ;  and  as 
she  saw  his  honest  eyes,  kind  lips,  and  helpful  hands,  the 
girl  thought  this  plain  young  man  the  comeliest,  most 
welcome  sight  she  had  beheld  that  day. 

"  How  good  of  you,  to  come  through  all  this  heat,  and 
not  to  laugh  at  my  despair !  "  she  said,  looking  up  like  a 
grateful  child,  as  she  led  him  in. 

"  I  only  obeyed  orders,  Nan  ;  for  a  certain  dear  old 
lady  had  a  motherly  presentiment  that  you  had  got  into 
a  domestic  whirlpool,  and  sent  me  as  a  sort  of  life  pre- 
server. So  I  took  the  basket  of  consolation,  and  came 
to  fold  my  feet  upon  the  carpet  of  contentment  in  the 
tent  of  friendship." 

As  he  spoke,  John  gave  his  own  gift  in  his  mother's 
name,  and  bestowed  himself  in  the  wide  window-seat, 
where  morning-glories  nodded  at  him,  and  the  old  butter- 
nut sent  pleasant  shadows  dancing  to  and  fro. 

His  advent,  like  that  of  Orpheus  in  Hades,  seemed  to 
soothe  all  unpropitious  powers  Avith  a  sudden  spell.  The 
fire  began  to  slacken,  the  kettles  began  to  lull,  the  meat 
began  to  cook,  the  irons  began  to  cool,  the  clothes  began 
to  behave,  the  spirits  began  to  rise,  and  the  collar  was 
finished  off  with  most  triumphant  success.  John  watched 
the  change,  and,  though  a  lord  of  creation,  abased  him- 
self to  take  compassion  on  the  weaker  vessel,  and  was 
seized  with  a  great  desire  to  lighten  the  homely  tasks 
that  tried  her  strength  of  body  and  soul.  He  took  a  com- 
prehensive glance  about  the  room ;  then,  extracting  a 
dish  from  the  closet,  proceeded  to  unbrue  his  hands  in 
the  strawberries*  blood. 

"  Oh,  John,  you  needn't  do  that ;  I  shall  have  time 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  361 

wheu  I've  turned  the  meat,  made  the  puddiug,  and  done 
these  things.  See,  Fm  getting  on  finely  now,  —  you're  a 
judge  of  such  matters  ;  isn't  that  nice  ?  " 

As  she  spoke,  Nan  offered  the  polished  absurdity  for 
inspection  with  innocent  pride. 

"Oh  that  I  were  a  collar,  to  sit  upon  that  hand!" 
sighed  John ;  adding,  argumentatively,  "As  to  the 
berry  question,  I  will  merely  say,  that,  as  a  matter  of 
public  safety,  you'd  better  leave  me  alone  ;  for  such  is 
the  destructiveness  of  my  nature,  that  I  shall  certainly 
cat  something  hurtful,  break  something  valuable,  or  sit 
upon  something  crushable,  unless  you  let  me  concentrate 
my  energies  by  knocking  off  these  young  fellows'  hats, 
and  preparing  them  for  their  doom." 

Looking  at  the  matter  in  a  charitable  light.  Nan  con- 
sented, and  went  cheerfully  on  Avith  her  work,  wondering 
how  she  could  have  thought  ironing  an  infliction,  and 
been  so  ungrateful  for  the  blessings  of  her  lot. 

"  "Where's  Sally?  "  asked  John,  looking  vainly  for  the 
energetic  functionary  who  usually  pervaded  that  region  like 
a  domestic  police-woman,  a  terror  to  cats,  dogs,  and  men. 

"  She  has  gone  to  her  cousin's  funeral,  and  Avon't  be 
back  till  Monday.  There  seems  to  be  a  great  fatality 
among  her  relations,  for  one  dies,  or  comes  to  grief  in 
some  way,  about  once  a  month.  But  I  don't  blame  poor 
Sally  for  wanting  to  get  away  from  this  place  now  and 
then.  I  think  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  murder  an 
imaginary  friend  or  two,  if  I  had  to  stay  here  long." 

And  Nan  laughed  so  blithely,  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
hear  her. 

"Where's  Di?"  asked  John,  seized  with  a  most  un- 
raasculine  curiosity  all  at  once. 


203  CAMP    AXD    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  She  is  in  Germany,  with  '  Wilhclm  Meister/  but, 
though  '  lost  to  sight,  to  memory  dear ' ;  for  I  was  just 
thinking,  as  I  did  h(^  things,  how  clever  she  is  to  like  all 
kinds  of  books  that  I  don't  understand  at  all,  and  to  write 
things  that  make  me  cry  with  pride  and  delight.  Yes, 
she's  a  talented  dear,  though  she  hardly  knows  a  needle 
from  a  crow-bar,  and  will  make  herself  one  great  blot 
some  of  these  days,  when  the  '  divine  afflatus '  descends 
upon  her,  I'm  afraid." 

And  Nan  rubbed  away  with  sisterly  zeal  at  Di's  forlorn 
hose  and  inky  pocket-handkerchiefs. 

"  AYhere  is  Laura?  "  proceeded  the  inquisitor. 

"  Well,  I  might  say  that  she  was  in  Italy ;  for  she  is 
coppng  some  fine  thing  of  Raphael's,  or  Michael  Angelo's, 
or  some  great  creature's  or  other  ;  and  she  looks  so  pic- 
turesque in  her  pretty  gown,  sitting  before  her  easel,  that 
it's  really  a  sight  to  behold,  and  I've  peeped  two  or  three 
times  to  see  how  she  gets  on." 

And  Nan  bestirred  herself  to  prepare  the  dish  where- 
with her  picturesque  sister  desired  to  prolong  her  artistic 
existence. 

"  "Where  is  your  father?"  John  asked  again,  checking 
off  each  answer  with  a  nod  and  a  little  frown. 

'•  He  is  dow^n  in  the  garden,  deep  in  some  plan  about 
melons,  the  beginning  of  which  seems  to  consist  in  stamp- 
ing the  first  proposition  in  Euclid  all  over  the  bed,  and 
then  poking  a  few  seeds  into  the  middle  of  each.  Why, 
bless  the  dear  man  !  I  forgot  it  was  time  for  the  cider. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  take  it  to  him,  John?  He'd  love 
to  consult  you  ;  and  the  lane  is  so  cool,  it  does  one's 
heart  good  to  look  at  it." 

John  glanced  from  the  steamy  kitchen  to  the  shadowy 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  263 

path,  aod  answered,  with  a  sudden  assumption  of  immense 
industry,  — 

'^  I  couldn't  possibly  go,  Nan,  IVe  so  much  on  my 
hands.  You'll  have  to  do  it  yourself.  '  Mr.  Robert  of 
Lincoln '  has  something  for  your  private  ear  ;  and  the 
lane  is  so  cool,  it  will  do  one's  heart  good  to  see  you  in 
it.  Give  my  regards  to  your  father,  and,  in  the  words 
of  '  Little  Mabel's  '  mother,  with  slight  variations,  — 

*Tell  the  dear  old  body 

This  day  I  cannot  run, 
For  the  pots  are  boiling  over 
And  the  mutton  isn't  done.'" 


"  I  will ;  but  please,  John,  go  in  to  the  girls  and  be 
comfortable  ;  for  I  don't  like  to  leave  you  here,"  said  Nan. 

'^  You  insinuate  that  I  should  pick  at  the  pudding  or 
skim  the  cream,  do  you?  Ungrateful  girl,  leave  me  !  " 
Aud,  with  melodramatic  sternness,  John  extinguished 
her  in  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  offered  the  glass  like 
a  poisoned  goblet. 

Xan  took  it,  and  went  smiling  away.  But  the  lane 
might  have  been  the  Desert  of  Sahara,  for  all  she  knew 
of  it ;  and  she  would  have  passed  her  father  as  uncon- 
cernedly as  if  he  had  been  an  apple-tree,  had  he  not 
called  out,  — 

"  Stand  and  deliver,  little  woman  !  " 

She  obeyed  the  venerable  highwayman,  and  followed 
him  to  and  fro,  listening  to  his  plans  and  directions  with 
a  mute  attention  that  quite  won  his  heart. 

"  That  hop-pole  is  really  an  ornament  now,  Nan  ;  this 
sage-bed  needs  weeding,  —  that's  good  work  for  you  girls  ; 


264  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

and,  now  I  think  of  it,  you'd  better  water  the  lettuce  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  after  I'm  gone." 

To  all  of  which  remarks  Nan  gave  her  assent ;  though 
the  hop-pole  took  the  likeness  of  a  tall  figure  she  had  seen 
in  the  porch,  the  sage-bed,  curiously  enough,  suggested 
a  strawberry  ditto,  the  lettuce  vividly  reminded  her  of 
certain  vegetable  productions  a  basket  had  brought,  and 
the  bobolink  only  sung  in  his  cheeriest  voice,  "  Go 
home,  go  home  !  he  is  there  !  " 

She  found  John,  —  having  made  a  Freemason  of  him- 
self, by  assuming  her  little  apron,  —  meditating  over  the 
partially  spread  table,  lost  in  amaze  at  its  desolate  appear- 
ance ;  one-half  its  proper  paraphernalia  having  been  for- 
gotten, and  the  other  half  put  on  awry.  Nan  laughed 
till  the  tears  ran  over  her  cheeks,  and  John  was  gratified 
at  the  eflicacy  of  his  treatment ;  for  her  face  had  brought 
a  whole  harvest  of  sunshine  from  the  garden,  and  all  her 
cares  seemed  to  have  been  lost  in  the  windings  of  the  lane. 

"  Nan,  are  you  in  hysterics?  "  cried  Di,  appearing,  book 
in  hand.     "John,  you  absurd  man,  what  are  you  doing?" 

"  I'm  helpin'  the  maid-of-alMvork,  please  marm." 
And  John  dropped  a  courtesy  with  his  limited  apron. 

Di  looked  rufiled,  for  the  merry  words  were  a  covert 
reproach  ;  and  with  her  usual  energy  of  manner  and 
freedom  of  speech  she  tossed  "  Wilhelm "  out  of  the 
window,  exclaiming,  irefuUy, — 

"  That's  always  the  way ;  Fm  never  where  I  ought  to 
be,  and  never  think  of  anything  till  it's  too  late  ;  but  it's 
all  Goethe's  fault.  What  does  he  write  books  full  of 
smart  '  Fhillinas '  and  interesting  '  Meisters  '  for  ?  How 
can  I  be  expected  to  remember  that  Sally's  away,  and 
people  must  eat,  when  I'm  hearing  the  '  Harper '  and  lit- 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  265 

tie  'Miguou'?  John,  liow  dare  you  come  here  and  do 
my  work,  instead  of  shaking  me  and  telling  me  to  do  it 
myself?  Take  that  toasted  child  away,  and  fan  her  like 
a  Chinese  mandarin,  while  I  dish  up  this  dreadful  dinner." 
John  and  Nan  fled  like  chaff  before  the  wind,  while 
Di,  full  of  remorseful  zeal,  charged  at  the  kettles,  and 
wrenched  off  the  potatoes'  jackets,  as  if  she  were  re- 
vengefully pulling  her  own  hair.  Laura  had  a  vague 
intention  of  going  to  assist ;  but,  getting  lost  among  the 
lin-hts  and  shadows  of  Minerva's  helmet,  forgot  to  appear 

o 

till  dinner  had  been  evoked  from  chaos,  and  peace  was 
restored. 

At  three  o'clock,  Di  performed  the  coronation  ceremony 
with  her  Other's  best  hat ;  Laura  retied  his  old-fashioned 
neck-cloth,  and  arranged  his  white  locks  with  an  eye  to 
saintly  effect ;  Nan  appeared  with  a  beautifully  written 
sermon,  and  suspicious  ink-stains  on  the  fingers  that 
sHpped  it  into  his  pocket ;  John  attached  himself  to  the 
bag ;  and  the  patriarch  was  escorted  to  the  door  of  his 
tent  with  the  triumphal  procession  which  usually  attended 
his  outgoings  and  incomings.  Having  kissed  the  female 
portion  of  his  tribe,  he  ascended  the  venerable  chariot, 
which  received  him  with  audible  lamentation,  as  its 
rheumatic  joints  swayed  to  and  fro. 

"  Good-by,  my  dears  !  I  shall  be  back  early  on  Mon- 
day morning  ;  so  take  care  of  yourselves,  and  be  sure 
you  all  go  and  hear  Mr.  Emerboy  preach  to-morrow.  My 
re"-ards  to  your  mother,  John.     Come,  Solon  !  " 

But  Solon  merely  cocked  one  ear,  and  remained  a  fixed 
fact ;  for  long  experience  had  induced  the  philosophic 
beast  to  take  for  his  motto  the  Yankee  maxim,  "  Be  sure 


2DO  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

you're  right,  then  go  ahead !  "  lie  knew  things  were 
not  right ;  therefore  he  did  not  go  ahead. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  girls,  don't  forget  to  pay  Tommy 
Mullein  for  bringing  up  the  cow  ;  he  expects  it  to-night. 
And,  Di,  don't  sit  up  till  daylight,  nor  let  Laura  stay  out 
in  the  dew.     Now,  I  believe,  I'm  off.     Come,  Solon  !  " 

But  Solon  only  cocked  the  other  ear,  gently  agitated 
his  mortified  tail,  as  premonitory  symptoms  of  departure, 
and  never  stirred  a  hoof,  being  well  aware  that  it  always 
took  three  "  comes"  to  make  a  "  go." 

"  Bless  me  !  I've  forgotten  my  spectacles.  They  are 
probably  shut  up  in  that  volume  of  Herbert  on  my  table. 
Very  awkward  to  find  myself  without  them  ten  miles 
aw^ay.  Thank  you,  John.  Don't  neglect  to  water  the 
lettuce.  Nan,  and  don't  overwork  yourself,  my  little 
'  Martha.'     Come " 

At  this  juncture  Solon  suddenly  went  off  at  a  trot, 
and  the  benign  old  pastor  disappeared,  humming  "  He- 
bron "  to  the  creaking  accompaniment  of  the  bulgy 
chaise. 

Laura  retired  to  take  her  siesta;  Nan  made  a  small 
carbanaro  of  herself  by  sharpening  her  sister's  crayons, 
and  Di,  as  a  sort  of  penance  for  past  sins,  tried  her 
patience  over  a  piece  of  knitting,  in  which  she  soon 
originated  a  somewhat  remarkable  pattern,  by  dropping 
every  third  stitch,  and  seaming  ad  libitum.  If  John  had 
been  a  gentlemanly  creature,  with  refined  tastes,  he 
would  have  elevated  his  feet,  and  made  a  nuisance  of 
himself  by  indulging  in  a  "weed";  but  being  only  an 
uncultivated  youth,  with  a  rustic  regard  for  pure  air  and 
w^omankind  in  general,  he  kept  his  head  uppermost,  and 
talked  like  a  man.  instead  of  smoking  like  a  chimnev. 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  267 

''  It  will  probably  be  six  months  before  I  sit  here 
<again,  tangling  your  threads  and  maltreating  your 
needles,  Nan.  How  glad  you  must  feel  to  hear  it !  " 
he  said,  looking  up  from  a  thoughtful  examination  of  the 
hard-working  little  citizens  of  the  Industrial  Community 
settled  in  Nan's  work-basket. 

"No,  I'm  very  sorry  ;  for  I  like  to  see  you  coming 
and  going  as  you  used  to,  years  ago,  and  I  miss  you 
very  much  when  you  are  gone,  John,"  answered  truthful 
Nan,  whittling  away  in  a  sadly  wasteful  manner,  as  her 
thoughts  flew  back  to  the  happy  times  when  a  little  lad 
rode  a  little  lass  in  the  big  wheelbarrow,  and  never  spilt 
his  load,  —  when  two  brown  heads  bobbed  daily  side  by 
side  to  school,  and  the  favorite  play  was  "  Babes  in  the 
Wood,"  with  Di  for  a  somewhat  peckish  robin  to  cover 
the  small  martyrs  with  any  vegetable  substance  that  lay 
at  hand.  Nan  sighed  as  she  thought  of  these  things, 
and  John  regarded  the  battered  thimble  on  his  finger-tip 
Avith  increased  benignity  of  aspect  as  he  heard  the  sound. 

"When  are  you  going  to  make  your  fortune,  John, 
and  get  out  of  that  disagreeable  hardware  concern?" 
demanded  Di,  pausing  after  an  exciting  "  round,"  and 
looking  almost  as  much  exhausted  as  if  it  had  been  a 
veritable  pugilistic  encounter. 

"  I  intend  to  make  it  by  plunging  still  deeper  into 
'  that  disagreeable  hardware  concern ' ;  for,  next  year, 
if  the  world  keeps  rolling,  and  John  Lord  is  alive,  he 
will  become  a  partner,  and  then  —  and  then  " 

The  color  sprang  up  into  the  young  man's  cheek,  his 
eyes  looked  out  with  a  sudden  light,  and  his  hand 
seemed  involuntarily  to  close,  as  if  he  saw  and  seized 
some  invisible  dcliirht. 


26S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  What  will  happen  then,  John?"  asked  Nan,  with  a 
wondering  glance. 

"  I'll  tell  you  in  a  year,  Nan,  —  wait  till  then.*'  And 
John's  strong  hand  unclosed,  as  if  the  desired  good  were 
not  to  be  his  yet. 

Di  looked  at  him,  with  a  knitting-needle  stuck  into  her 
hair,  saying,  like  a  sarcastic  unicorn,  — 

"  I  really  thought  you  had  a  soul  above  pots  and 
kettles,  but  I  see  you  haven't ;  and  I  beg  your  pardon 
for  the  injustice  I  have  done  you." 

Not  a  whit  disturbed,  John  smiled,  as  if  at  some 
mighty  pleasant  fancy  of  his  own,  as  he  replied,  — 

"  Thank  you,  Di ;  and  as  a  further  proof  of  the  utter 
depravity  of  my  nature,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  have  the 
greatest  possible  respect  for  those  articles  of  ironmon- 
gery. Some  of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life  have  been 
spent  in  their  society ;  some  of  my  pleasantest  associa- 
tions are  connected  with  them  ;  some  of  my  best  lessons 
have  come  to  me  from  among  them ;  and  when  my 
fortune  is  made,  I  intend  to  show  my  gi'atitude  by  taking 
three  flat-irons  rampant  for  my  coat-of-arms." 

Nan  laughed  merrily,  as  she  looked  at  the  burns  on 
her  hand ;  but  Di  elevated  the  most  prominent  feature 
of  her  brown  countenance,  and  sighed  despondingly,  — 

"  Dear,  dear,  what  a  disappointing  world  this  is !  I 
no  sooner  build  a  nice  castle  in  Spain,  and  settle  a  smart 
young  knight  therein,  than  down  it  comes  about  my 
ears  ;  and  the  ungrateful  youth,  who  might  fight  dragons 
if  he  chose,  insists  on  quenching  his  energies  in  a  sauce- 
pan, and  wasting  his  life  on  a  series  of  gridirons.  Ah, 
if  Zwere  a  man,  I  would  do  something  better  than  that, 
and  prove  that  heroes  are  not  all  dead  yet.     But,  instead 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  269 

of  that,  I'm  ouly  a  woman,  and  must  sit  rasping  my 
temper  with  absurdities  like  this."  And  Di  wrestled 
with  her  knitting  as  if  it  were  Fate,  and  she  were  paying 
off  the  grudge  she  owed  it. 

John  leaned  toward  her,  saying,  with  a  look  that  made 
his  plain  face  handsome, — 

''  Di,  my  father  began  the  world  as  I  begin  it,  and 
left  it  the  richer  for  the  useful  years  he  spent  here,  — • 
as  I  hope  I  may  leave  it  some  half-century  hence.  His 
memory  makes  that  dingy  shop  a  pleasant  place  to  me ; 
for  there  he  made  an  honest  name,  led  an  honest  life, 
and  bequeathed  to  me  his  reverence  for  honest  work. 
That  is  a  sort  of  hardware,  Di,  that  no  rust  can  corrupt, 
and  which  will  always  prove  a  better  fortune  than  any 
your  knights  can  win  Avith  sword  and  shield.  I  think 
I  am  not  quite  a  clod,  or  quite  without  some  aspirations 
above  money-getting;  for  I  have  a  great  ambition  to 
become  as  good  a  man,  and  leave  as  green  a  memory 
behind  me,  as  old  John  Lord." 

Di  winked  violently,  and  seamed  five  times  in  perfect 
silence  ;  but  quiet  ^an  had  the  gift  of  knowing  when  to 
speak,  and  by  a  timely  word  saved  her  sister  from  a 
thunder-showier  and  her  stocking  from  destruction. 

"  John,  have  you  seen  Philip  since  you  wrote  about 
your  last  meeting  with  him  ?  " 

The  question  was  for  John,  but  the  soothing  tone  was 
for  Di,  Avho  gratefully  accepted  it,  and  perked  up  again 
with  speed. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  meant  to  have  told  you  about  it,"  an- 
swered John,  plunging  into  the  subject  at  once.  "  I  saw 
him  a  few  days  before  I  came  home,  and  found  him  more 
disconsolate  than  ever,  —  'just  ready  to  go  to  the  deuce,* 


270  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

as  he  forcibly  expressed  himself.  I  consoled  the  poor  lad 
as  well  as  I  could,  telliDg  him  his  wisest  plan  was  to  defer 
his  proposed  expedition,  and  go  on  as  steadily  as  he  had 
begun,  —  thereby  proving  the  injustice  of  your  father's 
prediction  concerning  his  want  of  perseverance,  and  the 
sincerity  of  his  affection.  I  told  him  the  change  in 
Laura's  health  and  spirits  was  silently  working  in  his 
favor,  and  that  a  few  more  months  of  persistent  endeavor 
would  conquer  your  father's  prejudice  against  him,  and 
make  him  a  stronger  man  for  the  trial  and  the  pain.  I 
read  him  bits  about  Laura  from  your  own  and  Di's  let- 
ters, and  he  went  away,  at  last,  as  patient  as  Jacob,  ready 
to  serve  another  '  seven  years '  for  his  beloved  Rachel." 

"  God  bless  you  for  it,  John  !  "  cried  a  fervent  voice  ; 
and,  looking  up,  they  saw  the  cold,  listless  Laura  trans- 
formed into  a  tender  girl,  all  aglow  with  love  and  long- 
ing, as  she  dropped  her  mask,  and  showed  a  living 
countenance  eloquent  with  the  first  passion  and  softened 
by  the  first  grief  of  her  life. 

John  rose  involuntarily  in  the  presence  of  an  innocent 
nature  whose  sorrow  needed  no  interpreter  to  him.  The 
girl  read  sympathy  in  his  brotherly  regard,  and  found 
comfort  in  the  friendly  voice  that  asked,  half  playfully, 
half  seriously,  — 

"  Shall  I  tell  him  that  he  is  not  forgotten,  even  for  an 
Apollo?  that  Laura  the  artist  has  not  conquered  Laura 
the  woman?  and  predict  that  the  good  daughter  will  yet 
prove  the  happy  wife  ?  " 

With  a  gesture  full  of  energy,  Laura  tore  her  Minerva 
from  top  to  bottom,  while  two  great  tears  rolled  down 
the  cheeks  grown  pale  with  hope  deferred. 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  27I 

"  Tell  liim  I  believe  all  things,  hope  all  things,  and  that 
I  never  can  forget." 

Nan  went  to  her  and  held  her  close,  leaving  the  prints 
of  two  loving,  but  grimy  hands  upon  her  shoulders  ;  Di 
looked  on  approvingly,  for,  though  rather  stony-hearted 
regarding  the  cause,  she  fully  appreciated  the  effect ;  and 
John,  turning  to  the  window,  received  the  commenda- 
tions of  a  robin  swaying  on  an  elm-bough,  with  sunshine 
on  its  ruddy  breast. 

The  clock  struck  five,  and  John  declared  that  he  must 
go  ;  for,  being  an  old-fashioned  soul,  he  fancied  that  his 
mother  had  a  better  right  to  his  last  hour  than  any 
younger  woman  in  the  land,  —  always  remembering  that 
"  she  was  a  widow,  and  he  her  only  son." 

Nan  ran  away  to  wash  her  hands,  and  came  back  with 
the  appearance  of  one  who  had  Avashed  her  face  also,  — 
and  so  she  had,  but  there  was  a  difference  in  the  water. 

"  Play  I'm  your  father,  girls,  and  remember  it  will  be 
six  months  before  '  that  John '  will  trouble  you  again." 

With  which  preface  the  young  man  kissed  his  former 
playfellows  as  heartily^as  the  boy  had  been  wont  to  do, 
when  stern  parents  banished  him  to  distant  schools,  and 
three  little  maids  bemoaned  his  fate.  But  times  were 
changed  now,  for  Di  grew  alarmingly  rigid  during  the 
ceremony ;  Laura  received  the  salute  like  a  grateful 
fiueen  ;  and  Nan  returned  it  with  heart  and  eyes  and 
tender  lips,  making  such  an  improvement  on  the  childish 
fashion  of  the  thing,  that  John  Avas  moved  to  support  his 
paternal  character  by  softly  echoing  her  father's  Avords, 
—  "  Take  care  of  yourself,  my  little  '  Martha.'  " 

Then  they  all  streamed  after  him  along  the  garden- 
path,  with  the  endless  messages  and  warnings  girls  are 


2^2  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

SO  prone  to  give  ;  and  the  young  man,  with  a  great  soft- 
ness at  his  heart,  went  away,  as  many  another  John  has 
gone,  feeling  better  for  the  companionship  of  innocent 
maidenhood,  and  stronger  to  wrestle  with  temptation,  to 
wait,  and  hope,  and  work. 

"  Let's  throw  a  shoe  after  him  for  luck,  as  dear  old 
'  Mrs.  Gummidge  *  did  after  '  David  *  and  the  '  willin' 
Barkis  ! '  Quick,  Nan  !  you  always  have  old  shoes  on  ; 
toss  one,  and  shout  '  Good  luck ! '  "  cried  Di,  with  one 
of  her  eccentric  inspirations. 

Xan  tore  off  her  shoe,  and  threw  it  far  along  the  dusty 
road,  with  a  sudden  longing  to  become  that  auspicious 
article  of  apparel,  that  the  omen  might  not  fail. 

Looking  backward  from  the  hill-top,  John  answered 
the  meek  shout  cheerily,  and  took  in  the  group  with  a 
lincrerin^  orlance  :  Laura  in  the  shadow  of  the  elms,  Di 
perched  on  the  fence,  and  Nan  leaning  far  over  the  gate, 
wdth  her  hand  above  her  eyes  and  the  sunshine  touching 
her  brown  hair  with  gold.  He  waved  his  hat  and  turned 
away  ;  but  the  music  seemed  to  die  out  of  the  blackbird's 
song,  and  in  all  the  summer  landsct^pe  his  eye  saw  nothing 
but  the  little  figure  at  the  gate. 

"  Bless  and  save  us  !  here's  a  flock  of  people  coming  ! 
My  hair  is  in  a  toss,  and  Nan's  without  her  shoe  ;  run  ! 
fly,  girls  !  or  the  Philistines  will  be  upon  us  !  "  cried  Di, 
tumbling  off  her  perch  in  sudden  alarm. 

Three  agitated  young  ladies,  with  flying  draperies  and 
countenances  of  mingled  mirth  and  dismay,  might  have 
been  seen  precipitating  themselves  into  a  respectable 
mansion  with  unbecoming  haste  ;  but  the  squirrels  were 
the  only  witnesses  of  this  "vision  of  sudden  flight,"  and, 
being  used  to  ground-and-lofty  tumbling,  didn't  mind  it. 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  273 

When  the  pedestrians  passed,  the  door  was  decorously 
closed,  and  no  one  visible  but  a  young  man,  who  snatched 
sometliing  out  of  the  road,  and  marched  away  again, 
whistling  with  more  vigor  of  tone  than  accuracy  of  tune, 
—  only  that,  and  nothing  more. 

now   IT   WAS    FOU^ND. 

Summer  ripened  into  autumn,  and  something  fairer 
than 

"  Sweet-peas  and  mignonette 
In  Annie's  garden  grew." 

Her  nature  was  the  counterpart  of  the  hill-side  grove, 
where  as  a  child  she  had  read  her  fairy  tales,  and  now 
as  a  woman  turned  the  first  pages  of  a  more  wondrous 
legend  still.  Lifted  above  the  many-gabled  roof,  yet  not 
cut  off  from  the  echo  of  human  speech,  the  little  grove 
seemed  a  gi-een  sanctuary,  fringed  about  with  violets, 
and  full  of  summer  melody  and  bloom.  Gentle  creatures 
haunted  it,  and  there  was  none  to  make  afraid ;  wood- 
pigeons  cooed  and  crickets  chirped  their  shrill  roundelays, 
anemones  and  lady-ferns  looked  up  from  the  moss  that 
kissed  the  wanderer's  feet.  Warm  airs  were  all  afloat, 
full  of  vernal  odors  for  the  grateful  sense,  silvery  birches 
shimmered  like  spirits  of  the  wood,  larches  gave  their 
green  tassels  to  the  wind,  and  pines  made  airy  music 
sweet  and  solemn,  as  they  stood  looking  heavenward 
through  veils  of  summer  sunshine  or  shrouds  of  wintry 
snow.  JSTan  never  felt  alone  now  in  this  charmed  wood  ; 
for,  when  she  came  into  its  precincts,  once  so  full  of  sol- 
itude, all  things  seemed  to  wear  one  shape;  familiar  eyes 
looked  at  her  from  the  violets  in  the  grass,  familiar  words 
18 


274  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

sounded  in  the  -whisper  of  the  leaves,  and  she  grew  con- 
scious that  an  unseen  influence  filled  the  air  with  new 
delights,  and  touched  earth  and  sky  with  a  beauty  never 
seen  before.  Slowly  these  May-flowers  budded  in  her 
maiden  heart,  rosily  they  bloomed,  and  silently  they 
waited  till  some  lover  of  such  lowly  herbs  should  catch 
their  fresh  aroma,  should  brush  away  the  fallen  leaves, 
and  lift  them  to  the  sun. 

Though  the  eldest  of  the  three,  she  had  long  been 
overtopped  by  the  more  aspiring  girls.  But,  though  she 
meekly  yielded  the  reins  of  government,  whenever  they 
chose  to  drive,  they  were  soon  restored  to  her  again  ;  for 
Di  fell  into  literature,  and  Laura  into  love.  Thus  en- 
grossed, these  two  forgot  many  duties  which  even  blue- 
stockings and  innamoratas  are  expected  to  perform,  and 
slowly  all  the  homely  humdrum  cares  that  housewives 
know  became  Nan's  daily  life,  and  she  accepted  it  with- 
out a  thought  of  discontent.  Noiseless  and  cheerful  as 
the  sunshine,  she  went  to  and  fro,  doing  the  tasks  that 
mothers  do,  but  without  a  mother's  sweet  reward,  hold- 
ing fast  the  numberless  slight  threads  that  bind  a  house- 
hold tenderly  together,  and  making  each  day  a  beautiful 
success. 

Di,  being  tu-ed  of  running,  riding,  climbing,  and  boat- 
ing, decided,  at  last,  to  let  her  body  rest,  and  put  her 
equally  active  mind  through  what  classical  collegians 
term  "  a  course  of  sprouts."  Having  undertaken  to  read 
and  know  everything^  she  devoted  herself  to  the  task  with 
great  energy,  going  from  Sue  to  Swedenborg  with  perfect 
impartiality,  and  having  different  authors  as  children 
have  sundry  distempers,  being  fractious  while  they  lasted, 
but  all  the  better  for  them  when  once  over.     Carlyle  ap- 


A   MODERN    CINDERELLA.  275 

peared  like  scarlet-fever,  and  raged  violently  for  a  time  ; 
for,  being  anything  but  a  "  passive  bucket,"  Di  became 
prophetic  Avith  Mahomet,  belligerent  with  Cromwell,  and 
made  the  French  Revolution  a  veritable  Reign  of  Terror 
to  her  family.  Goethe  and  Schiller  alternated  like  fever 
and  ague  ;  Mephistopheles  became  her  hero,  Joan  of  Arc 
her  model,  and  she  turned  her  black  eyes  red  over  Eg- 
mout  and  Wallenstein.  A  mild  attack  of  Emerson  fol- 
lowed, during  which  she  was  lost  in  a  fog ;  and  lier 
sisters  rejoiced  inwardly  when  she  emerged,  informing 
them  that 

''  The  Sphinx  was  drowsy, 
Her  wings  were  furled." 

Poor  Di  was  floundering  slowly  to  her  proper  place  ; 
but  she  splashed  up  a  good  deal  of  foam  by  getting  out 
of  her  depth,  and  rather  exhausted  herself  by  trying  to 
drink  the  ocean  dry. 

Laura,  after  the  "midsummer  night's  dream"  that 
often  comes  to  girls  of  seventeen,  woke  up  to  find  that 
youth  and  love  were  no  match  for  age  and  common 
sense.  Philip  had  been  flying  about  the  world  like  a 
thistle-down  for  five-and-twenty  years,  generous-hearted, 
frank,  and  kind,  but  wuth  never  an  idea  of  the  serious 
side  of  life  in  his  handsome  head.  Great,  therefore, 
were  the  wrath  and  dismay  of  the  enamored  thistle-down, 
when  the  father  of  his  love  mildly  objected  to  seeing  her 
begin  the  world  in  a  balloon,  with  a  very  tender  but  very 
inexperienced  aeronaut  for  a  guide. 

"  Laura  is  too  young  to  '  play  house  '  yet,  and  you  are 
too  unstable  to  assume  the  part  of  lord  and  master, 
Philip.     Go  and  prove  that  you  have  prudence,  patience, 


276  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

energy,  and  enterprise,  and  I  will  give  you  my  girl,  — 
but  not  before.  I  must  seem  cruel,  that  I  may  be  truly 
kind  ;  believe  this,  and  let  a  little  pain  lead  you  to  great 
happiness,  or  show  you  Avhere  you  would  have  made  a 
blunder." 

The  lovers  listened,  owned  the  truth  of  the  old  man's 
Avords,  bewailed  their  fate,  and  —  yielded:  Laura  for 
love  of  her  father,  Philip  for  love  of  her.  He  went 
away  to  build  a  firm  foundation  for  his  castle  in  the  air, 
and  Laura  retired  into  an  invisible  convent,  where  she 
cast  off  the  w^orld,  and  regarded  her  sympathizing  sisters 
through  a  grate  of  superior  knowledge  and  unsharablc 
grief.  Like  a  devout  nun,  she  worshipped  "  St.  Philip," 
and  firmly  believed  in  his  miraculous  powers.  She  fan- 
cied that  her  woes  set  her  apart  from  common  cares,  and 
slowly  fell  into  a  dreamy  state,  professing  no  interest  in 
any  mundane  matter,  but  the  art  that  first  attracted 
Philip.  Crayons,  bread-crusts  and  gray  paper  became 
glorified  in  Laura's  eyes  ;  and  her  one  pleasure  was  to  sit 
before  her  easel,  day  after  day,  filling  her  portfolios  with 
the  faces  he  had  once  admired.  Her  sisters  observed 
that  every  Bacchus,  Piping  Faun,  or  Dying  Gladiator 
bore  some  likeness  to  a  comely  countenance  that  heathen 
god  or  hero  never  owned ;  and,  seeing  this,  they  pri- 
vately rejoiced  that  she  had  found  such  solace  for  her 
grief. 

Mrs.  Lord's  keen  eye  had  read  a  certain  newly-written 
page  in  her  son's  heart,  —  his  first  chapter  of  that  ro- 
mance, begun  in  Paradise,  whose  interest  never  flags, 
whose  beauty  never  fades,  whose  end  can  never  come 
till  Love  lies  dead.  With  womanly  skill  she  divined  the 
secret,  with  motherly  discretion  she  counselled  patience. 


A   MODERN    CINDERELLA.  277 

aud  her  sou  accepted  her  advice,  feeling  that,  like  inauy 
a  healthful  herb,  its  worth  lay  iu  its  bitterness. 

"  Love  like  a  man,  John,  not  like  a  boy,  and  learn  to 
know  yourself  before  you  take  a  woman's  happiness  into 
your  keeping.  You  and  Nan  have  known  each  other  all 
your  lives  ;  yet,  till  this  last  visit,  you  never  thought  you 
loved  her  more  than  any  other  childish  friend.  It  is  too 
soon  to  say  the  words  so  often  spoken  hastily  —  so  hard 
to  be  recalled.  Go  back  to  your  work,  dear,  for  another 
year  ;  think  of  Nan  in  the  light  of  this  new  hope  ;  com- 
pare her  with  comelier,  gayer  girls ;  and  by  absence 
prove  the  truth  of  your  belief.  Then,  if  distance  only 
makes  her  dearer,  if  time  only  strengthens  your  affection, 
and  no  doubt  of  your  own  worthiness  disturbs  you,  come 
back  and  offer  her  what  any  woman  should  be  glad  to 
take,  —  my  boy's  true  heart." 

John  smiled  at  the  motherly  pride  of  her  words,  but 
answered,  with  a  wistful  look,  — 

"  It  seems  very  long  to  wait,  mother.  If  I  could  just 
ask  her  for  a  word  of  hope,   I   could  be  very  patient 

then." 

"Ah,  my  dear,  better  bear  one  year  of  impatience 
now  than  a  lifetime  of  regret  hereafter.  Nan  is  happy ; 
why  disturb  her  by  a  word  which  will  bring  the  tender 
cares  and  troubles  that  come  soon  enough  to  such  con- 
scientious creatures  as  herself?  If  she  loves  you,  time 
will  prove  it ;  therefore,  let  the  new  affection  spring  and 
ripen  as  your  early  friendship  has  done,  and  it  will  be  all 
the  stronger  for  a  summer's  growth.  Philip  was  rash, 
and  has  to  bear  his  trial  now,  and  Laura  shares  it  with 
him.  Be  more  generous,  John  ;  make  your  trial,  bear 
your  doubti?  alone,  and  give  Nan  the  happiness  without 


27S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

the  pain.  Promise  me  this,  dear,  —  promise  me  to  hope 
and  wait." 

The  young  man's  eye  kindled,  and  in  his  heart  tliere 
rose  a  better  chivahy,  a  truer  valor,  than  any  Di's 
knights  had  ever  known. 

"  I'll  try,  mother,"  was  all  he  said ;  but  she  was  sat- 
isfied, for  John  seldom  tried  in  vain. 

"  Oh,  girls,  how  splendid  you  are  !  It  does  my  heart 
good  to  see  my  handsome  sisters  in  their  best  array,'* 
cried  Xan,  one  mild  October  night,  as  she  put  the  last 
touches  to  certain  airy  raiment  fashioned  by  her  own 
skilful  hands,  and  then  fell  back  to  survey  the  grand  effect. 

Di  and  Laura  were  preparing  to  assist  at  an  "  event 
of  the  season,"  and  Nan,  with  her  own  locks  fallen  on 
her  shoulders  for  want  of  sundry  combs  promoted  to  her 
sisters'  heads,  and  her  dress  in  unwonted  disorder  for  lack 
of  the  many  pins  extracted  in  exciting  crises  of  the  toilet, 
hovered  like  an  affectionate  bee  about  two  very  full-blown 
flowers. 

"  Laura  looks  like  a  cool  Undine,  with  the  ivy- wreaths 
in  her  shining  hair ;  and  Di  has  illuminated  herself  to 
such  an  extent  with  those  scarlet  leaves,  that  I  don't 
know  what  great  creature  she  resembles  most,"  said  Nan, 
beaming  with  sisterly  admiration. 

"Juno,  Zenobia  and  Cleopatra  simmered  into  one, 
wdth  a  touch  of  Xantippe,  by  way  of  spice.  But,  to  my 
eye,  the  finest  woman  of  the  three  is  the  dishevelled 
young  person  embracing  the  bed-post ;  for  she  stays  at 
home  herself,  and  gives  her  time  and  taste  to  making 
homely  people  fine,  —  which  is  a  waste  of  good  material, 
and  an  imposition  on  the  public." 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  279 

As  Di  spoke,  both  the  fashion-plates  looked  affection- 
ately at  the  gray-gowned  figure  ;  but,  being  works  of 
art,  they  were  obliged  to  nip  their  feelings  in  the  bud, 
and  reserve  their  caresses  till  they  returned  to  common 
life. 

''Put  on  your  bonnet,  and  Ave'll  leave  you  at  Mrs. 
Lord's  on  our  way.  It  will  do  you  good.  Nan  ;  and  per- 
haps there  may  be  news  from  John,"  added  Di,  as  she 
bore  down  upon  the  door  like  a  man-of-war  under  full 
sail. 

"  Or  from  Philip,"  sighed  Laura,  with  a  wistful  look. 

Whereupon  Nan  persuaded  herself  that  her  strong 
inclination  to  sit  dowTi  was  owing  to  want  of  exercise, 
and  the  heaviness  of  her  eyelids  a  freak  of  imagination  ; 
so,  speedily  smoothing  her  ruffled  plumage,  she  ran  down 
to  tell  her  father  of  the  new  arrangement. 

"  Go,  my  dear,  by  all  means.  I  shall  be  writing,  and 
you  will  be  lonely  if  you  stay.  But  I  must  see  my  girls  ; 
for  I  caught  glimpses  of  certain  surprising  phantoms  flit- 
ting by  the  door." 

Nan  led  the  way,  and  the  two  pyramids  revolved 
before  him  with  the  rigidity  of  lay-figures,  much  to  the 
good  man's  edification  ;  for  with  his  fatherly  pleasure 
there  was  mingled  much  mild  wonderment  at  the  ampli- 
tude of  array. 

"  Yes,  I  see  my  geese  are  really  swans,  though  there 
is  such  a  cloud  between  us  that  I  feel  a  long  way  off,  and 
hardly  know  them.  But  this  little  daughter  is  always 
available,  always  my  '  cricket  on  the  hearth.'  " 

As  he  spoke,  her  father  drew  Nan  closer,  kissed  her 
tranquil  face,  and  smiled  content. 

"Well,  if  ever  I  see  picters,  I  see  'em  now,  and  I  de- 


200  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

clare  to  goodness  it's  as  interestin'  as  play-act  in',  every 
bit.  Miss  Di,  with  all  them  boughs  in  her  head,  looks 
like  the  Queen  of  Sheby,  when  she  went  a-visitin'  What's- 
his-name  ;  and  if  Miss  Laura  ain't  as  sweet  as  a  lally- 
barster  figger,  I  should  like  to  know  what  is." 

In  her  enthusiasm,  Sally  gambolled  about  the  girls, 
flourishing  her  milk-pan  as  if  about  to  sound  her  timbrel 
for  excess  of  joy. 

Laughing  merrily,  the  two  girls  bestowed  themselves 
iu  the  family  ark.  Nan  got  up  beside  Patrick,  and  Solon, 
roused  from  his  slumbers,  morosely  trundled  them  away. 
But,  looking  backward  with  a  last  "  Good-night!  "  Nan 
saw  her  father  still  standing  at  the  door  with  smiling 
countenance,  and  the  moonlight  falling  like  a  benediction 
on  his  silver  hair. 

"  Betsey  shall  go  up  the  hill  with  you,  my  dear,  and 
here's  a  basket  of  eggs  for  your  father.  Give  him  my 
love,  and  be  sure  you  let  me  know  the  next  time  he  is 
poorly,"  Mrs.  Lord  said,  when  her  guest  rose  to  depart, 
after  an  hour  of  pleasant  chat. 

But  Nan  never  got  the  gift ;  for,  to  her  great  dismay, 
her  hostess  dropped  the  basket  with  a  crash,  and  flew 
across  the  room  to  meet  a  tall  figure  pausing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  door.  There  w^as  no  need  to  ask  who  the 
new-comer  was  ;  for,  even  in  his  mother's  arms,  John 
looked  over  her  shoulder  with  an  eager  nod  to  Nan,  who 
stood  among  the  ruins  with  never  a  sign  of  weariness  in 
her  face,  nor  the  memory  of  a  care  at  her  heart,  —  for 
they  all  went  out  when  John  came  in. 

"  Now  tell  us  how,  and.  why,  and  when  you  came. 
Take  off  your  coat,  my  dear !     And  here  are  the  old 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  281 

slippers.  Why  didn't  you  let  us  know  you  were  coming 
so  soou  ?  How  have  you  been  ?  and  what  makes  you  so 
late  to-night  ?  Betsey,  you  needn't  put  on  your  bonnet. 
And  —  oh,  my  dear  boy,  have  you  been  to  supper 
yet  ?  " 

Mrs.  Lord  was  a  quiet  soul,  and  her  flood  of  questions 
was  purred  softly  in  her  son's  ear ;  for,  being  a  woman, 
she  must  talk,  and,  being  a  mother,  must  pet  the  one 
delight  of  her  life,  and  make  a  little  festival  when  the 
lord  of  the  manor  came  home.  A  whole  drove  of  fatted 
calves  were  metaphorically  killed,  and  a  banquet  ap- 
peared with  speed.  John  was  not  one  of  those  romantic 
heroes  who  can  go  through  three  volumes  of  hair-breadth 
escapes  withoiit  the  faintest  hint  of  that  blessed  insti- 
tution, dinner ;  therefore,  he  partook  copiously  of  every- 
thing, while  the  two  women  beamed  over  each  mouthful 
v,ith  an  interest  that  enhanced  its  flavor,  and  urged  upon 
him  cold  meat  and  cheese,  pickles  and  pie,  as  if  dyspepsia 
and  nightmare  were  among  the  lost  arts. 

Then  he  opened  his  budget  of  news  and  fed  them. 

"  I  was  coming  next  month,  according  to  custom ;  but 
Philip  fell  upon  and  so  tempted  me,  that  I  was  driven  to 
sacrifice  myself  to  the  cause  of  friendship,  and  up  we 
came  to-night.  He  would  not  let  me  come  here  till  we 
had  seen  your  father,  Xan  ;  for  the  poor  lad  was  pining 
for  Laura,  and  hoped  his  good  behavior  for  the  past  year 
would  satisfy  his  judge  and  secure  his  recall.  We  had 
a  fine  talk  with  your  father ;  and,  upon  my  life,  Phil 
seemed  to  have  received  the  gift  of  tongues,  for  he  made 
a  most  eloquent  plea,  Avhich  I've  stowed  away  for  future 
use,  I  assure  you.  The  dear  old  gentleman  was  very 
kind,  told  Phil  he  was  satisfied  with  the  success  of  his 


2S2  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

probation,  that  he  sliould  see  Laura  when  he  liked,  and, 
if  all  went  well,  should  receive  his  reward  in  the  spring. 
It  must  be  a  deliglitful  sensation  to  know  you  have  made 
a  fellow-creature  as  happy  as  those  words  made  Phil 
to-night." 

John  paused,  and  looked  musingly  at  the  matronly 
tea-pot,  as  if  he  saw  a  wondrous  future  in  its  shine. 

Nan  twinkled  off  the  drops  that  rose  at  the  thought  of 
Laura's  joy,  and  said,  with  grateful  warmth,  — 

"  You  say  nothing  of  your  own  share  in  the  making 
of  that  happiness,  John  ;  but  we  know  it,  for  Philip  has 
told  Laura  in  his  letters  all  that  you  have  been  to  him, 
and  I  am  sure  there  was  other  eloquence  beside  his  own 
before  father  granted  all  you  say  he  has.  Oh,  John,  I 
thank  you  very  much  for  this  !  " 

Mrs.  Lord  beamed  a  whole  midsummer  of  delight 
upon  her  son,  as  she  saw  the  pleasure  these  words  gave 
him,  though  he  answered  simply,  — 

"  I  only  tried  to  be  a  brother  to  him,  Nan  ;  for  he  has 
been  most  kind  to  me.  Yes,  I  said  my  little  say  to-night, 
and  gave  my  testimony  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar,  a  most  merciful  judge  pronounced  his  sentence,  and 
he  rushed  straight  to  Mrs.  Leigh's  to  tell  Laura  the  bliss- 
ful news.  Just  imagine  the  scene  when  he  appears,  and 
how  Di  will  open  her  wicked  eyes  and  enjoy  the  spectacle 
of  the  ardent  lover,  the  bride-elect's  tears,  the  stir, 
and  the  romance  of  the  thing.  She'll  cry  over  it  to-night, 
and  caricature  it  to-morrow." 

And  John  led  the  laugh  at  the  picture  he  had  conjured 
up,  to  turn  the  thoughts  of  Di's  dangerous  sister  from 
himself. 

At  ten  Nan  retired  into  the  depths  of  her  old  bonnet 


A    MODEIIN    CINDERELLA.  283 

with  a  far  different  face  from  the  one  she  brought  out  of 
it,  aud  John,  resuming  his  hat,  mounted  guard. 

''  Don't  stay  late,  remember,  John !  "  And  in  Mrs. 
Lord's  voice  there  was  a  warning  tone  that  her  son  inter- 
preted aright. 

"  I'll  not  forget,  mother." 

And  he  kept  his  word  ;  for  though  Philip's  happiness 
floated  temptingly  before  him,  and  the  little  figure  at  his 
side  had  never  seemed  so  dear,  he  ignored  the  bland 
winds,  the  tender  night,  and  set  a  seal  upon  his  lips, 
thinking  manfully  within  himself,  "  I  see  many  signs  of 
promise  in  her  happy  face  ;  but  I  will  wait  and  hope  a 
little  longer  for  her  sake." 

"Where  is  father,  Sally?"  asked  Nan,  as  that  func- 
tionary appeared,  blinking  owlishly,  but  utterly  repudi- 
ating the  idea  of  sleep. 

'•  He  went  down  the  garding,  miss,  when  the  gentle- 
men cleared,  bein'  a  little  flustered  by  the  goin's  on. 
Shall  I  fetch  him  in  ?  "  asked  Sally,  as  irreverently  as  if 
her  master  were  a  bag  of  meal. 

"  No,  we  will  go  ourselves."  And  slowly  the  two 
paced  do-svn  the  leaf-strewn  walk. 

Fields  of  yellow  grain  were  waving  on  the  hill-side, 
and  sere  corn-blades  rustled  in  the  wind  ;  from  the  orchard 
came  the  scent  of  ripening  fruit,  and  all  the  garden-plots 
lay  ready  to  yield  up  their  humble  offerings  to  their  mas- 
ter's hand.  But  in  the  silence  of  the  night  a  greater 
Reaper  had  passed  by,  gathering  in  the  harvest  of  a 
righteous  life,  and  leaving  only  tender  memories  for  the 
gleaners  who  had  come  so  late. 

The  old  man  sat  in  the  shadow  of  the  tree  his  own 


2b4  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

hands  planted  ;  its  fruitful  boughs  shone  ruddily,  and  its 
leaves  still  whispered  the  low  lullaby  that  hushed  him  to 
his  rest. 

"  How  fast  he  sleeps !  Poor  father !  I  should  have 
come  before  and  made  it  pleasant  for  him." 

As  she  spoke,  Nan  lifted  up  the  head  bent  down  upon 
his  breast,  and  kissed  his  pallid  cheek. 

"  Oh,  John,  this  is  not  sleep  !  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  the  happiest  he  will  ever  know." 

For  a  moment  the  shadows  flickered  over  three  white 
faces,  and  the  silence  deepened  solemnly.  Tlien  John 
reverently  bore  the  pale  shape  in,  and  Nan  dropped  down 
beside  it,  saying,  Avith  a  rain  of  grateful  tears,  — 

"  He  kissed  me  when  I  went,  and  said  a  last  '  good- 
night ! ' " 

For  an  hour  steps  went  to  and  fro  about  her,  many 
voices  whispered  near  her,  and  skilful  hands  touched  the 
beloved  clay  she  held  so  fast ;  but  one  by  one  the  busy 
feet  passed  out,  one  by  one  the  voices  died  away,  and 
human  skill  proved  vain.  Then  Mrs.  Lord  drew  the 
orphan  to  the  shelter  of  her  arms,  soothing  her  with  the 
mute  solace  of  that  motherly  embrace. 


"  Yes,  we  are  poorer  than  we  thought ;  but  when 
everything  is  settled,  we  shall  get  on  very  well.  We 
can  let  a  part  of  this  great  house,  and  live  quietly  together 
until  spring  ;  then  Laura  will  be  married,  and  Di  can  go 
on  their  travels  with  them,  as  Philip  wishes  her  to  do. 
We  shall  be  cared  for  ;  so  never  fear  for  us,  John." 


A   MODERN   CINDERELLA.  285 

Xau  said  this,  as  her  friend  parted  from  her  a  week 
later,  after  the  saddest  holiday  he  had  ever  known. 

"And  what  becomes  of  you,  Nan?"  he  asked,  watcli- 
ing  the  patient  eyes  that  smiled  when  others  would 
have  wept. 

"  I  shall  stay  in  the  dear  old  house ;  for  no  other 
place  would  seem  like  home  to  me.  I  shall  find  some  lit- 
tle child  to  love  and  care  for,  and  be  quite  happy  till  the 
girls  come  back  and  want  me." 

John  nodded  wisely,  as  he  listened,  and  went  away 
prophesying  within  himself,  — 

"  Slie  shall  find  something  more  than  a  child  to  love  ; 
and,  God  willing,  shall  be  very  happy  till  the  girls  come 
home  and  —  cannot  have  her." 

Nan's  plan  was  carried  into  efiect.  Slowly  the  divided 
waters  closed  again,  and  the  three  fell  back  into  their  old 
life.  But  the  touch  of  sorrow  drew  them  closer ;  and, 
though  invisible,  a  beloved  presence  still  moved  among 
them,  a  familiar  voice  still  spoke  to  them  in  the  silence 
of  their  softened  hearts.  Thus  the  soil  was  made  ready, 
and  in  the  depth  of  winter  the  good  seed  was  so^vn,  was 
watered  with  many  tears,  and  soon  sprang  up  green  with 
the  promise  of  a  harvest  for  their  after  years. 

Di  and  Laura  consoled  themselves  with  their  favorite 
emplo}Tnents,  unconscious  that  Nan  was  grooving  paler, 
thinner,  and  more  silent,  as  the  weeks  went  by,  till  one 
day  she  dropped  quietly  before  them,  and  it  suddenly 
became  manifest  that  she  was  utterly  worn  out  with 
many  cares,  and  the  secret  suffering  of  a  tender  heart 
bereft  of  the  paternal  love  which  had  been  its  strength 
and  stay. 

"  I'm  only  tired,  dear  girls.     Don't  be  troubled,  for  I 


2S6  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

shall  be  up  to-morrow,"  she  said  cheerily,  as  she  looked 
into  the  anxious  faces  bending  over  her. 

But  the  weariness  was  of  many  months'  growth,  and 
it  was  weeks  before  that  "  to-morrow  "  came. 

Laura  installed  herself  as  nurse,  and  her  devotion  was 
repaid  fourfold ;  for,  sitting  at  her  sister's  bedside,  she 
learned  a  finer  art  than  that  she  had  left.  Her  eye  grew 
clear  to  see  the  beauty  of  a  self-denying  life,  and  in  the 
depths  of  Nan's  meek  nature  she  found  the  strong, 
sweet  virtues  that  made  her  what  she  was. 

Then  remembering  that  these  womanly  attributes  were 
a  bride's  best  dowry,  Laura  gave  herself  to  their  attain- 
ment, that  she  might  become  to  another  household  the 
blessing  Nan  had  been  to  her  own ;  and  turning  from  the 
worship  of  the  goddess  Beauty,  she  gave  her  hand  to 
that  humbler  and  more  human  teacher.  Duty,  —  learning 
her  lessons  with  a  willing  heart,  for  Philip's  sake. 

Di  corked  her  inkstand,  locked  her  bookcase,  and  went 
at  housework  as  if  it  were  a  five-barred  gate  ;  of  course 
she  missed  the  leap,  but  scrambled  bravely  through,  and 
appeared  much  sobered  by  the  exercise.  Sally  had 
departed  to  sit  under  a  vine  and  fig-tree  of  her  own,  so 
Di  had  undisputed  sway  ;  but  if  dish-pans  and  dusters 
had  tongues,  direful  would  have  been  the  history  of  that 
crusade  against  frost  and  fire,  indolence  and  inexperience. 
But  they  were  dumb,  and  Di  scorned  to  complain,  though 
her  struggles  were  pathetic  to  behold,  and  her  sisters 
went  through  a  series  of  messes  equal  to  a  course  of 
"Prince  Bedreddin's"  peppery  tarts.  Reality  turned 
Romance  out  of  doors  ;  for,  unlike  her  favorite  heroines 
in  satin  and  tears,  or  helmet  and  shield,  Di  met  her  fate 
in  a  big  checked  apron  and  dust-cap  wonderful  to  see  ; 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  2S7 

yet  she  wiekled  her  broom  as  stoutly  as  ''  Moll  Flanders  " 
shouldered  her  gun,  and  marched  to  her  daily  martyrdom 
in  the  kitchen  with  as  heroic  a  heart  as  the  "  Maid  of 
Orleans  "  took  to  her  stake. 

Mind  won  the  victory  over  matter  in  the  end,  and  Di 
was  better  all  her  days  for  the  tribulations  and  the  tri- 
umphs of  that  time  ;  for  she  dro^vned  her  idle  fancies  in 
her  wash-tub,  made  burnt-offerings  of  selfishness  and 
pride,  and  learned  the  worth  of  self-denial,  as  she  sang 
with  happy  voice  among  the  pots  and  kettles  of  her  con- 
quered realm. 

Nan  thought  of  John ;  and  in  the  stillness  of  her 
sleepless  nights  prayed  Heaven  to  keep  him  safe,  and 
make  her  worthy  to  receive,  and  strong  enough  to  bear, 
the  blessedness  or  pain  of  love. 

Snow  fell  without,  and  keen  winds  hov/lcd  among  the 
leafless  elms,  but  "herbs  of  grace"  were  blooming  beau- 
tifully in  the  sunshine  of  sincere  endeavor,  and  this 
dreariest  season  proved  the  most  fruitful  of  the  year ;  for 
love  taught  Laura,  labor  chastened  Di,  and  patience 
fitted  Nan  for  the  blessing  of  her  life. 

Nature,  that  stillest  yet  most  diligent  of  housewives, 
beiran  at  last  that  "spring-cleaning"  which  she  makes 
so  Vasant  that  none  find  the  heart  to  grumble  as  they 
do  Avhen  other  matrons  set  their  premises  a-dust.  Her 
handmaids,  wind  and  rain  and  sun,  swept,  washed,  and 
garnished  busily,  green  carpets  were  unrolled,  apple- 
boughs  were  hung  with  draperies  of  bloom,  and  dande- 
Hons,  pet  nurslings  of  the  year,  came  out  to  play  upon 

the  sward. 

From  the  South  returned  that  opera  troupe  whose  man- 
ager is  never  in  despair,  whose  tenor  never  sulks,  whose 


288  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

l^rima  donna  never  fails,  and  in  the  orchard  hona  fide 
matinees  were  held,  to  v/hich  buttercups  and  clovers 
crowded  in  their  prettiest  spring  hats,  and  verdant  young 
blades  twinkled  their  dewy  lorgnettes,  as  they  bowed 
and  made  way  for  the  floral  belles. 

May  was  bidding  June  good-morrow,  and  the  roses 
were  just  dreaming  that  it  was  almost  time  to  wake, 
when  John  came  again  into  the  quiet  room  which  now 
seemed  the  Eden  that  contained  his  Eve.  Of  course 
there  was  a  jubilee ;  but  something  seemed  to  have  be- 
fallen the  Avhole  group,  for  never  had  they  all  appeared 
in  such  odd  frames  of  mind. 

John  was  restless,  and  wore  an  excited  look,  most 
unlike  his  usual  serenity  of  aspect.  Nan  the  cheerful 
had  fallen  into  a  well  of  silence,  and  was  not  to  be  ex- 
tracted by  any  hydraulic  power,  though  she  smiled  like 
the  June  sky  over  her  head.  Di's  peculiarities  were  out 
in  full  force,  and  she  looked  as  if  she  would  go  off  like  a 
torpedo  at  a  touch  ;  but  through  all  her  moods  there  was 
a  half-triumphant,  half-remorseful  expression  in  the 
glance  she  fixed  on  John.  And  Laura,  once  so  silent, 
now  sang  like  a  blackbird,  as  she  flitted  to  and  fro  ;  but 
her  fitful  song  was  always,  '-Philip,  my  king." 

John  felt  that  there  had  come  a  change  upon  the  three, 
and  silently  divined  whose  unconscious  influence  had 
wrought  the  miracle.  The  embargo  was  off  his  tongue, 
and  he  was  in  a  fever  to  ask  that  question  which  brings 
a  flutter  to  the  stoutest  heart ;  but  though  the  "  man"  had 
come,  the  "•  hour  "  had  not.  So,  by  way  of  steadying  his 
nerves,  he  paced  the  room,  pausing  often  to  take  notes  of 
his  companions,  and  each  pause  seemed  to  increase  his 
wonder  and  content. 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  2S9 

He  looked  at  Nan.  She  was  in  licr  usual  place,  the 
shabby  little  chair  she  loved,  because  it  once  was  large 
enough  to  hold  a  curly-headed  playmate  and  herself.  Tlie 
old  work-basket  was  at  her  side,  and  the  battered  thimble 
busily  at  work  ;  but  her  lips  wore  a  smile  they  had  never 
worn  before,  the  color  of  the  unblown  roses  touched  her 
cheek,  and  her  downcast  eyes  were  full  of  light. 

He  looked  at  Di.  The  inevitable  book  was  on  her 
knee,  but  its  leaves  were  uncut ;  the  strong-minded  knob 
of  hair  still  asserted  its  supremacy  aloft  upon  her  head, 
and  the  triangular  jacket  still  adorned  her  shoulders  in 
defiance  of  all  fashions,  past,  present,  or  to  come  ;  but 
the  expression  of  her  brown  countenance  had  groAvn 
softer,  her  tongue  had  found  a  curb,  and  in  her  hand  lay 
a  card  with  "  Potts,  Kettel  &  Co."  inscribed  thereon, 
which  she  regarded  with  never  a  scornful  word  for 
the  "Co." 

He  looked  at  Laura.  She  was  before  her  easel,  as  of 
old  ;  but  the  pale  nun  had  given  place  to  a  blooming  girl, 
who  sang  at  her  work,  which  was  no  prim  Pallas,  but  a 
Clytie  turning  her  human  face  to  meet  the  sun. 

"John,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 

He  stirred  as  if  Di's  voice  had  disturbed  his  fancy  at 
some  pleasant  pastime,  but  answered  with  his  usual  sin- 
cerity, — 

"  I  was  thinking  of  a  certain  dear  old  faiiy  tale,  called 
'  CindereUa.'  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Di ;  and  her  "  Oh"  was  a  most  impressive 
monosyllable.  "  I  see  the  meaning  of  your  smile  now  ; 
and,  though  the  application  of  the  story  is  not  very  com- 
plimentary to  all  parties  concerned,  it  is  very  just  and 
very  true." 


290  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

She  paused  a  moment,  then  went  on  with  softened 
voice  and  earnest  face,  — 

"  You  think  I  am  a  blind  and  selfish  creature.  So  I 
am,  but  not  so  blind  and  selfish  as  I  have  been  ;  for 
many  tears  have  cleared  my  eyes,  and  sincere  regret  has 
made  me  humbler  than  I  was.  I  have  found  a  better 
book  than  any  father's  library  can  give  me,  and  I  have 
read  it  with  a  love  and  admiration  that  grew  stronger  as 
I  turned  the  leaves.  Henceforth  I  take  it  for  my  guide 
and  gospel,  and,  looking  back  upon  the  selfish  and 
neglectful  past,  can  only  say.  Heaven  bless  your  dear 
heart.  Nan ! " 

Laura  echoed  Di's  last  words ;  for,  with  eyes  as  full 
of  tenderness,  she  looked  down  upon  the  sister  she  had 
lately  learned  to  know,  saying,  warmly,  — 

"  Yes,  '  Heaven  bless  your  dear  heart,  Nan  ! '  I  never 
can  forget  all  you  have  been  to  me  ;  and  when  I  am  far 
away  with  Philip,  there  will  always  be  one  countenance 
more  beautiful  to  me  than  any  pictured  face  I  may  dis- 
cover, there  will  be  one  place  more  dear  to  me  than 
Rome.  The  face  will  be  yours.  Nan,  —  always  so  pa- 
tient, always  so  serene  ;  and  the  dearer  place  will  be  this 
home  of  ours,  which  you  have  made  so  pleasant  to  me 
all  these  years  by  kindnesses  as  numberless  and  noiseless 
as  the  drops  of  dew." 

"  Why,  girls,  what  have  I  ever  done,  that  you  should 
love  me  so? "  cried  Nan,  with  happy  wonderment,  as  the 
tall  heads,  black  and  golden,  bent  to  meet  the  lowly 
brown  one  ;  and  her  sisters'  mute  lips  answered  her. 

Then  Laura  looked  up,  saying,  playfully,  — 

"  Here  are  the  good  and  wicked  sisters  ;  where  shall 
we  find  the  Prince  ?  " 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  29 1 

"  There  !  "  cried  Di,  pointing  to  John  ;  and  then  her 
secret  went  off  like  a  rocket ;  for,  with  her  old  impetuos- 
ity, she  said,  — 

"  I  have  found  you  out,  John,  and  am  ashamed  to  look 
you  in  the  face,  remembering  the  past.  Girls,  you  know, 
when  father  died,  John  sent  us  money,  which  he  said 
Mr.  Owen  had  long  owed  us,  and  had  paid  at  last !  It 
was  a  kind  lie,  John,  and  a  generous  thing  to  do  ;  for  we 
needed  it,  but  never  would  have  taken  it  as  a  gift.  I 
know  you  meant  that  we  should  never  find  this  out ;  but 
yesterday  I  met  Mr.  Owen  returning  from  the  West, 
and  when  I  thanked  him  for  a  piece  of  justice  we  had 
not  expe<:ted  of  him,  he  gruffly  told  me  he  had  never 
paid  the  debt,  never  meant  to  pay  it,  for  it  was  outlawed, 
and  we  could  not  claim  a  farthing.  John,  I  have  laughed 
at  you,  thought  you  stupid,  treated  you  unkindly  ;  but  I 
know  you  now,  and  never  shall  forget  the  lesson  you 
have  taught  me.  I  am  proud  as  Lucifer,  but  I  ask  you 
to  forgive  me,  and  I  seal  my  real  repentance  so  —  and 
so!" 

"With  tragic  countenance,  Di  rushed  across  the  room, 
threw  both  arms  about  the  astonished  young  man's  neck, 
and  dropped  an  energetic  kiss  upon  his  cheek.  There 
was  a  momentary  silence ;  for  Di  finely  illustrated  her 
strong-minded  theories  by  crying  like  the  weakest  of  her 
sex.  Laura,  with  "  the  ruling  passion  strong  in  death," 
still  tried  to  draw,  but  broke  her  pet  crayon,  and  en- 
dowed her  Clytie  with  a  supplementary  orb,  owing  to  the 
dimness  of  her  own.  And  Nan  sat,  with  drooping  eyes 
that  shone  upon  her  work,  thinking,  wuth  tender  pride,  — 

"  They  know  him  now,  and  love  him  for  his  generous 
heart." 


292  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Di  spoke  first,  rallying  to  her  colors,  though  a  little 
daunted  by  her  loss  of  self-control : 

"Don't  laugh,  John  —  I  couldn't  help  it;  and  don't 
think  I'm  not  sincere,  for  I  ana,  —  I  am !  and  I  will 
prove  it  by  growing  good  enough  to  be  your  friend. 
That  debt  must  all  be  paid,  and  I  shall  do  it ;  for  I'll 
turn  my  books  and  pen  to  some  account,  and  write  sto- 
ries full  of  dear  old  souls  like  you  and  Nan  ;  and  somej 
one,  I  know,  will  like  and  buy  them,  though  they  are  not 
'  works  of  Shakspeare.*  I've  thought  of  this  before, 
have  felt  I  had  the  power  in  me  ;  now  I  have  the  motive, 
and  no2v  I'll  do  it.'* 

If  Di  had  proposed  to  translate  the  Koran,  or  build  a 
new  Saint  Paul's,  there  would  have  been  many  chances 
of  success ;  for,  once  moved,  her  will,  like  a  battering- 
ram,  would  knock  down  the  obstacles  her  wits  could  not 
surmount.  John  believed  in  her  most  heartily,  and 
showed  it,  as  he  answered,  looking  into  her  resolute 
face,  — 

"  I  know  you  will,  and  yet  make  us  very  proud  of  our 
Di.  Let  the  money  lie,  and  when  you  have  made  a  for- 
tune, I'll  claim  it  with  enormous  interest ;  but,  believe 
me,  I  feel  already  doubly  repaid  by  the  esteem  so  gener- 
ously confessed,  so  cordially  bestowed,  and  can  only  say, 
as  we  used  to  years  ago,  —  '  Now  let's  forgive  and  for- 
get."' 

But  proud  Di  would  not  let  him  add  to  her  obligation, 
even  by  returning  her  impetuous  salute ;  she  slipped 
away,  and,  shaking  off  the  last  drops,  answered,  with  a 
curious  mixture  of  old  freedom  and  new  respect,  — 

"  No  more  sentiment,  please,  John.  We  know  each 
other  now  ;  and  when  I  find  a  friend,  I  never  let  him  go. 


A    MODERN    CINDERELLA.  293 

We  have  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace  ;  so  let  us  go  back  to 
our  wigwams  and  bury  the  hatchet.     Where  were  we 
when  I  lost  my  head?  and  what  were  we  talking  about?" 
''  Cinderella  and  the  Prince." 

As  he  spoke,  John's  eye  kindled,  and,  turning,  he 
looked  down  at  Nan,  who  sat  diligently  ornamenting 
with  microscopic  stitches  a  great  patch  going  on,  the 
wrong  side  out. 

c4  Yes,  —  so  we  were;  and  now,  taking  pussy  for  the 
godmother,  the  characters  of  the  story  are- well  person- 
ated—aU  but  the  slipper,"  said  Di,  laughing,  as  she 
thought  of  the  many  times  they  had  played  it  together 
years  ago. 

A  sudden  warmth  stirred  John's  heart,  a  sudden 
purpose  shone  in  his  countenance,  and  a  sudden  change 
befell  his  voice,  as  he  said,  producing  from  some  hiding- 
place  a  little  worn-out  shoe,  — 

"  I  can  supply  the  slipper  ;  —  who  will  try  it  first?  " 
Di's  black  eyes  opened  wide,  as  they  fell  on  the 
familiar  object ;  then  her  romance-loving  nature  saw  the 
whole  plot  of  that  drama  which  needs  but  two  to  act  it. 
A  great  delight  flushed  up  into  her  face,  as  she  promptly 
took  her  cue,  saying,  — 

"  No  need  for  us  to  try  it,  Laura  ;  for  it  wouldn't  fit 
us,  if  our  feet  were  as  small  as  Chinese  dolls ' ;  —  our 
parts  are  played  out ;  therefore,  '  Exeunt  wicked  sisters  to 
the  music  of  the  wedding-bells.' "  And  pouncing  upon 
the  dismayed  artist,  she  swept  her  out,  and  closed  the 
door  with  a  triumphant  bang. 

John  went  to  Nan,  and,  dropping  on  his  knee  as  rev- 
erently as  the  herald  of  the  fairy  tale,  he  asked,  stiU 
.'smiling,  but  with  lips  grown  tremulous,  — 


294  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  Will  Cinderella  try  the  little  shoe,  and,  —  if  it  fits,  — 
go  with  the  Prince  ?  " 

But  Nan  only  covered  up  her  face,  weeping  happy 
tears,  while  all  the  w^eary  work  strayed  down  upon  the 
floor,  as  if  it  knew  her  holiday  had  come. 

John  drew  the  hidden  face  still  closer  ;  and,  while  she 
listened  to  his  eager  W'Ords,  Nan  heard  the  beating  of  the 
strong  man's  heart,  and  knew^  it  spoke  the  truth. 

"  Nan,  I  promised  mother  to  be  silent  till  I  was  sure 
I  loved  you  wholly,  —  sure  that  the  knowledge  would 
give  no  pain  when  I  should  tell  it,  as  I  am  trying  to  tell 
it  now.  This  little  shoe  has  been  my  comforter  through 
this  long  year,  and  I  have  kept  it  as  other  lovers  keep 
their  fairer  favors.  It  has  been  a  talisman  more  eloquent 
to  me  than  flower  or  ring  ;  for,  w^hen  I  saw  how  worn  it 
was,  I  always  thought  of  the  willing  feet  that  came  and 
went  for  others'  comfort  all  day  long ;  when  I  saw  the 
little  bow  you  tied,  I  always  thought  of  the  hands  so 
diligent  in  serving  any  one  who  knew  a  want  or  felt  a 
pain ;  and  when  I  recalled  the  gentle  creature  Avho  had 
w^orn  it  last,  I  always  saw  her  patient,  tender,  and 
devout,  —  and  tried  to  grow  more  w^orthy  of  her,  that  I 
might  one  day  dare  to  ask  if  she  would  w^alk  beside  me 
all  my  life,  and  be  my  '  angel  in  the  house.'  "Will  you, 
dear?  Believe  me,  you  shall  never  know  a  weariness  or 
gi'ief  I  have  the  power  to  shield  you  from." 

Then  Nan,  as  simple  in  her  love  as  in  her  life,  laid  her 
arms  about  his  neck,  her  happy  face  against  his  own, 
and  answered  softly,  — 

"  Oh,  John,  I  never  can  be  sad  or  tired  any  more  !  " 


THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY. 

DON'T  bring  him  in  here  ;  every  corner  is  full,"  said 
the  nurse,  eying  with  dismay  the  gaunt  figure  lying 
on  the  stretcher  in  the  doorway. 

"Where  shaU  we  put  him,  then?  Tliey  can't  have 
him  in  either  of  the  other  wards  on  this  floor.  He's 
ordered  up  here,  and  here  he  must  stay,  if  he's  put  in  the 
hall,  poor  devil ! "  said  the  foremost  bearer,  looking 
around  the  crowded  room  in  despair. 

The  nurse's  eye  followed  his,  and  both  saw  a  thin  hand 
beckoning  from  the  end  of  the  long  ward. 

"  It's  Murry ;  I'll  see  what  he  wants ; "  and  IRIiss 
Mercy  went  to  him  with  her  quick,  noiseless  step,  and 
the  smile  her  grave  face  always  wore  for  him. 

"  There's  room  here,  if  you  turn  my  bed  'round,  you 
see.  Don't  let  them  leave  him  in  the  hall,"  said  Murry, 
lifting  his  great  eyes  to  hers,  brilliant  with  the  fever 
burning  his  strength  away,  and  pathetic  with  the  silent 
protest  of  life  against  death. 

"  It's  like  you  to  think  of  it ;  he's  a  rebel,"  began 
Miss  Mercy. 

"  So  much  more  reason  to  take  him  in.  I  don't  mind 
having  him  here  ;  but  it  will  distress  me  dreadfully  to 
know  that  any  poor  soul  was  turned  away,  from  the  com- 
fort of  this  ward  especially." 

(295) 


296  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

The  look  he  gave  her  made  the  words  an  eloquent 
compliment,  and  his  pity  for  a  fallen  enemy  reproached 
her  for  her  own  lack  of  it.  Her  face  softened  as  she 
nodded,  and  glanced  about  the  recess. 

^'  You  will  have  the  light  in  your  eyes,  and  only  the 
little  table  between  you  and  a  very  disagreeable  neigh- 
bor," she  said. 

"  I  can  shut  my  eyes  if  the  light  troubles  them  ;  I've 
nothing  else  to  do  now,"  he  answered,  with  a  faint  laugh. 
"  I  was  too  comfortable  before  ;  I'd  more  than  my  share 
of  luxuries  ;  so  bring  him  along,  and  it  w^ill  be  all  right." 

The  order  was  given,  and,  after  a  brief  bustle,  the  two 
narrow  beds  stood  side  by  side  in  the  recess  under  the 
organ-loft  —  for  the  hospital  had  been  a  church.  Left 
alone  for  a  moment,  the  two  men  eyed  each  other  silently. 
Murry  saw  a  tall,  sallow  man,  with  fierce  black  eyes, 
w41d  hair  and  beard,  and  a  thin-lipped,  cruel  mouth.  A 
ragged  gray  uniform  was  visible  under  the  blanket 
thrown  over  him  ;  and  in  strange  contrast  to  the  squalor 
of  his  dress,  and  the  neglect  of  his  person,  was  the 
diamond  ring  that  shone  on  his  unwounded  hand.  The 
right  arm  was  bound  up,  the  right  leg  amputated  at  the 
knee  ;  and,  though  the  man's  face  was  white  and  haggard 
with  suffering,  not  a  sound  escaped  him  as  he  lay  with 
his  eyes  fixed  half  defiantly  upon  his  neighbor. 

John  Clay,  the  new-comer,  saw  opposite  him  a  small, 
wasted  figure,  and  a  plain  face  ;  yet  both  face  and  figure 
were  singularly  attractive,  for  suffering  seemed  to  have 
refined  away  all  the  grosser  elements,  and  left  the  spir- 
itual very  visible  through  that  frail  tenement  of  flesh. 
Pale-brown  hair  streaked  the  hollow  temples  and  white 
forehead.     A  deep  color  burned  in  the  thin  cheeks  still 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  297 

tauned  by  the  wind  and  weather  of  a  long  campaign. 
Tlie  mouth  was  grave  and  sweet,  and  in  the  gray  eyes 
hiy  an  infinite  patience  touched  with  melancholy,  lie 
wore  a  di'cssing-gown,  but  across  his  feet  lay  a  faded 
coat  of  army-blue.  As  the  other  watched  him,  he  saw  a 
shadow  pass  across  his  tranquil  face,  and  for  a  moment 
he  laid  his  wasted  hand  over  the  eyes  that  had  been  so 
full  of  pity.  Then  he  gently  pushed  a  mug  of  fresh 
water,  and  the  last  of  a  bunch  of  grapes,  toward  the 
exhausted  rebel,  saying,  in  a  cordial  tone,  — 

"  You  look  faint  and  thirsty  ;  have  'em." 

Clay's  lips  were  parched,  and  his  hand  went  involun- 
tarily toward  the  cup  ;  but  he  caught  it  back,  and,  lean- 
ing forward,  asked,  in  a  shrill  whisper, — 

"  Where  are  you  hurt?  " 

"  A  shot  in  the  side,"  answered  Murry,  visibly  sur- 
prised at  the  man's  manner, 

"What  battle?" 

"  The  Wilderness." 

"Is  it  bad?" 

"I'm  dying  of  wound-fever  ;  there's  no  hope,  they  say." 

That  reply,  so  simple,  so  serenely  given,  would  have 
touched  almost  any  hearer  ;  but  Clay  smiled  grimly,  and 
lay  dowm  as  if  satisfied,  with  his  one  hand  clenched,  and 
an  exulting  glitter  in  his  eyes,  muttering  to  himself,  — 

"  The  loss  of  my  leg  comes  easier  after  hearing  tliat." 

Murry  saw  his  lips  move,  but  caught  no  sound,  and 
asked,  with  friendly  solicitude,  — 

"  Do  you  want  anything,  neighbor  ?  " 

"Yes  —  to  be  let  alone,"  was  the  curt  reply,  with  a 
savage  frown. 

"  That's  easily  done.     I  sha'n't  trouble  you  very  long, 


29S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

any  way ; "  and,  with  a  sigh,  Murry  turned  his  face 
away,  and  lay  silent  till  the  surgeon  came  up  on  his 
morning  round. 

'•Oh!  you're  here,  are  you?  It's  like  Mercy  Carrol 
to  take  you  in,"  said  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh,  as  he  surveyed  the 
rebel,  with  a  slight  frown  ;  for,  in  spite  of  his  benevo- 
•lence  and  skill,  he  Avas  a  stanch  loyalist,  and  hated  the 
South  just  then. 

"  Don't  praise  me  ;  he  never  Avould  have  been  here  but 
for  Murry,"  answered  Miss  Mercy,  as  she  approached, 
with  her  dressing-tray  in  her  hand. 

"  Bless  the  lad !  he'll  give  up  his  bed  next,  and  feel 
offended  if  he's  thanked  for  it.  How  are  you,  my  good 
fellow?"  and  the  doctor  turned  to  press  the  hot  hand, 
with  a  friendly  face. 

"  Much  easier  and  stronger,  thank  you,  doctor,"  was 
the  cheerful  answer. 

"  Less  fever,  pulse  better,  breath  freer  —  good  symp- 
toms. Keep  on  so  for  twenty-four  hours,  and,  by  my 
soul,  I  believe  you'll  have  a  chance  for  your  life,  Murry," 
cried  the  doctor,  as  his  experienced  eye  took  note  of  a 
hopeful  change. 

"  In  spite  of  the  opinion  of  three  good  surgeons  to  the 
contrary?"  asked  Murry,  with  a  wistful  smile. 

"  Hang  everybody's  opinion  !  We  are  but  mortal  men, 
and  the  best  of  us  make  mistakes  in  spite  of  science  and 
experience.  There's  Parker ;  we  all  gave  him  up,  and 
the  rascal  is  larking  'round  "Washington  as  well  as  ever 
to-day.  "While  there's  life  there's  hope ;  so  cheer  up 
my  lad,  and  do  your  best  for  the  little  girl  at  home." 

"Do  you  really  think  I  may  hope?"  cried  Murry, 
white  with  the  joy  of  this  unexpected  reprieve. 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  299 

"  Hope  is  a  capital  medicine,  aud  I  prescribe  it  for  a 
day  at  least.  Don't  build  on  this  change  too  much,  but 
if  you  are  as  well  to-morrow  as  this  morning,  I  give  you 
my  word  I  think  you'll  pull  through." 

Murry  laid  his  hands  over  his  face  with  a  broken 
"Thank  God  for  that!  "and  the  doctor  turned  away 
with  a  sonorous  "  Hem ! "  and  an  air  of  intense  satis- 
faction. 

During  this  conversation  Miss  Mercy  had  been  watch- 
insT  the  rebel,  who  looked  and  listened  to  the  others  so 
intently  that  he  forgot  her  presence.  She  saw  an  expres- 
sion of  rage  and  disappointment  gather  in  his  face  as  the 
doctor  spoke  ;  and  when  Murry  accepted  the  hope  held 
out  to  him.  Clay  set  his  teeth  with  an  evil  look,  that  would 
have  boded  ill  for  his  neighbor  had  he  not  been  helpless. 

"  Ungrateful  traitor  !  I'll  watch  him,  for  he'll  do  mis- 
chief if  he  can,"  she  thought,  and  reluctantly  began  to 
unbind  his  arm  for  the  doctor's  inspection. 

"Only  a  flesh-wound,  —  no  bones  broken,  —  a  good 
syringing,  rubber  cushion,  plenty  of  water,  and  it  will 
soon  heal.  You'll  attend  to  that.  Miss  Mercy;  this 
stump  is  more  in  my  line  ; "  and  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh  turned 
to  the  leg,  leaving  the  arm  to  the  nurse's  skilful  care. 

"  Evidently  amputated  in  a  hurry,  and  neglected  since. 
If  you're  not  careful,  young  man,  you'll  change  places 
with  your  neighbor  here." 

"  Damn  him ! "  muttered  Clay  in  his  beard,  with  an 
emphasis  which  caused  the  doctor  to  glance  at  his  venge- 
ful face. 

"Don't  be  a  brute,  if  you  can  help  it.  But  for  him 
you'd  have  fared  ill,"  began  the  doctor. 

"  But  for  him  I  never  should  have  been  here,"  muttered 


300  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

the  man,  in  French,  with  a  furtive  glance  about  the 
room. 

"  You  owe  this  to  him?"  asked  the  doctor,  touching 
the  wound,  and  speaking  in  the  same  tongue. 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  paid  for  it —  at  least,  I  thought  he  had." 

"  By  the  Lord !  if  you  are  the  sneaking  rascal  that 
shot  him  as  he  lay  wounded  in  the  ambulance,  I  shall  be 
tempted  to  leave  you  to  your  fate  ! "  cried  the  doctor, 
with  a  wrathful  flash  in  his  keen  eyes. 

"  Do  it,  then,  for  it  was  I,"  answered  the  man  defi- 
antly;  adding,  as  if  anxious  to  explain,  ''We  had  a  tus- 
sle, and  each  got  hurt  in  the  thick  of  the  skirmish.  He 
w^as  put  in  the  ambulance  afterward,  and  I  was  left  to 
live  or  die,  as  luck  would  have  it.  I  was  hurt  the 
worst ;  they  should  have  taken  me  too  ;  it  made  me  mad 
to  see  him  chosen,  and  I  fired  my  last  shot  as  he  drove 
away.  I  didn't  know  whether  I  hit  him  or  not  ;  but 
when  they  told  me  I  must  lose  my  leg  I  hoped  I  had, 
and  now  I  am  satisfied." 

He  spoke  rapidly,  w^ith  clenched  hand  and  fiery  eyes, 
and  the  two  listeners  watched  him  Avith  a  sort  of  fascina- 
tion as  he  hissed  out  the  last  words,  glancing  at  the  occu- 
pant of  the  next  bed.  Murry  evidently  did  not  understand 
French  ;  he  lay  with  averted  face,  closed  eyes,  and  a  hope- 
ful smile  still  on  his  lips,  quite  unconscious  of  the  meaning 
of  the  fierce  words  uttered  close  beside  him.  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh 
had  laid  down  his  instruments,  and  knit  his  black  brows 
irefully  while  he  listened.  But  as  the  man  paused,  the 
doctor  looked  at  Miss  Mercy,  who  was  quietly  going  on 
with  her  work,  though  there  was  an  expression  about  her 
handsome  mouth  that  made  her  womanly  face  look  almost 


THE    BLUE    AND    TPIE    GRAY.  3OI 

grim.  Taking  up  his  tools,  the  doctor  followed  her 
example,  saying  slowly,  — 

"If  I  didn't  believe  Murry  was  mending,  I'd  turn  you 
over  to  Roberts,  whom  the  patients  dread  as  they  do  the 
devil.  I  must  do  my  duty,  and  you  may  thank  Murry 
for  it." 

"Does  he  know  you  are  the  man  who  shot  him?" 
asked  Mercy,  still  in  French. 

"  No  ;  I  shouldn't  stay  here  long  if  he  did,"  answered 
Clay,  with  a  short  laugh. 

"Don't  tell  him,  then  —  at  least,  till  after  you  are 
moved,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  command. 

"  Where  am  I  going?  "  demanded  the  man. 

"  Anywhere  out  of  my  ward,"  was  the  brief  answer, 
with  a  look  that  made  the  black  eyes  waver  and  fall. 

In  silence  nurse  and  doctor  did  their  work,  and  passed 
on.  In  silence  Murry  lay  hour  after  hour,  and  silently 
did  Clay  watch  and  wait,  till,  utterly  exhausted  by  the 
suffering  he  was  too  proud  to  confess,  he  sank  into  a 
stupor,  oblivious  alike  of  hatred,  defeat,  and  pain.  Find- 
ing him  in  this  pitiable  condition,  Mercy  relented,  and, 
womanlike,  forgot  her  contempt  in  pity.  He  was  not 
moved,  but  tended  carefully  all  that  day  and  night ;  and 
when  he  woke  from  a  heavy  sleep,  the  morning  sun  shone 
again  on  two  pale  faces  in  the  beds,  and  flashed  on  the 
buttons  of  two  army-coats  hanging  side  by  side  on  the 
recess  wall,  on  loyalist  and  rebel,  on  the  blue  and  the 
gi'ay. 

Dr.  Fitz  Hugh  stood  beside  Murry's  cot,  saying  cheer- 
ily, "  You  are  doing  well,  my  lad  —  better  than  I  hoped. 
Keep  calm  and  cool,  and,  if  all  goes  right,  we'll  have  lit- 
tle Mary  here  to  pet  you  in  a  week." 


302  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  Who's  Mary?"  whispered  the  rebel  to  the  attendant 
who  was  washing  his  face. 

"  His  sweetheart ;  he  left  her  for  the  war,  and  she's 
•\vaitin'  for  him  back  —  poor  soul ! "  answered  the  man, 
with  a  somewhat  vicious  scrub  across  the  sallow  cheek 
he  was  wiping. 

"  So  he'll  get  well,  and  go  home  and  marry  the  girl 
he  left  behind  him,  "^vill  he  ?  "  sneered  Clay,  fingering  a 
little  case  that  hung  about  his  neck,  and  vras  now  visible 
as  his  rough  valet  unbuttoned  his  collar. 

"What's  that.  —  your  sweetheart's  picter?"  asked 
Jim,  the  attendant,  eying  the  gold  chain  anxiously. 

"  I've  got  none,"  was  the  gruiF  answer. 

"  So  much  the  wus  for  you,  then.  Small  chance  of 
gettin'  one  here ;  our  girls  won't  look  at  you,  and  you 
ain't  likely  to  see  any  of  your  own  sort  for  a  long  spell, 
I  reckon,"  added  Jim,  working  away  at  the  rebel's  long- 
neglected  hair. 

Clay  lay  looking  at  Mercy  Carrol  as  she  went  to  and 
fro  among  the  men,  leaving  a  smile  behind  her,  and  car- 
rying comfort  wherever  she  turned,  —  a  right  womanly 
woman,  lovely  and  lovable,  strong  yet  tender,  patient 
yet  decided,  skilful,  kind,  and  tireless  in  the  discharge  of 
duties  that  w^ould  have  daunted  most  women.  It  was  in 
vain  she  wore  the  plain  gray  gown  and  long  apron,  for 
neither  could  hide  the  grace  of  her  figure.  It  was 
in  vain  she  brushed  her  luxuriant  hair  back  into  a  net, 
for  the  wa^y  locks  would  fall  on  her  forehead,  and  stray 
curls  would  creep  out  or  glisten  like  gold  under  the 
meshes  meant  to  conceal  them.  Busy  days  and  watchful 
nights  had  not  faded  the  beautiful  bloom  on  her  cheeks, 
or  dimmed  the  brightness  of  her  hazel   eyes.     Always 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  303 

ready,  fresh,  and  fair,  Mercy  Carrol  was  regarded  as  the 
good  angel  of  the  hospital,  and  not  a.  man  in  it,  sick  or 
well,  but  was  a  loyal  friend  to  her.  None  dared  to  be  a 
lover,  for  her  little  romance  was  known  ;  and,  though 
still  a  maid,  she  was  a  widow  in  their  eyes,  for  she  had 
sent  her  lover  to  his  death,  and  over  the  brave  man's 
grave  had  said,  "  Well  done." 

Jim  watched  Clay  as  his  eye  followed  the  one  female 
figure  there,  and,  observing  that  he  clutched  the  case  still 
tighter,  asked  again,  — 

"  What  is  that  —  a  charm  ?  " 

"  Yes,  —  against  pain,  captivity  and  shame." 

"  Strikes  me  it  a'n't  kep'  you  from  any  one  of  'em," 
said  Jim,  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  haven't  tried  it  yet." 

"How  does  it  work?"  Jim  asked  more  respectfully, 
being  impressed  by  something  in  the  rebel's  manner. 

"  You  will  see  when  I  use  it.  Now  let  me  alone  ;  " 
and  Clay  turned  impatiently  away. 

"  You've  got  p'ison,  or  some  deviltry,  in  that  thing. 
If  you  don't  let  me  look,  I  swear  I'll  have  it  took  away 
from  you ; "  and  Jim  put  his  big  hand  on  the  slender 
chain  with  a  resolute  air. 

Clay  smiled  a  scornful  smile,  and  offered  the  trinket, 
saying  coolly, — 

"  I  only  fooled  you.  Look  as  much  as  you  like ; 
you'll  find  nothing  dangerous." 

Jim  opened  the  pocket,  saw  a  lock  of  gray  hair,  and 
nothing  more. 

"  Is  that  your  mother's  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  my  dead  mother  s." 

It  w^as  strange  to  see  the  instantaneous  change   that 


304  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

passed  over  the  two  men  as  each  uttered  that  dearest 
word  in  all  tongues.  Rough  Jim  gently  reclosed  and 
returned  the  case,  saying  kindly,  — 

"  Keep  it  ;  I  wouldn't  rob  you  on't  for  no  money." 

Clay  thrust  it  jealously  into  his  breast,  and  the  first 
trace  of  emotion  he  had  shown  softened  his  dark  face,  as 
he  answered,  with  a  grateful  tremor  in  his  voice,  — 

"  Thank  you.     I  wouldn't  lose  it  for  the  world." 

"  May  I  say  good-morning,  neighbor?  "  asked  a  feeble 
voice,  as  Murry  turned  a  very  wan,  but  cheerful  face 
toward  him,  when  Jim  moved  on  with  his  basin  and 
towel. 

"  K  you  like,"  returned  Clay,  looking  at  him  Avith 
those  quick,  suspicious  eyes  of  his. 

"  Well,  I  do  like  ;  so  I  say  it,  and  hope  you  are 
better,"  returned  the  cordial  voice. 

''Are  you?" 

"  Yes,  thank  God  !  " 

"Is  it  sure?" 

"  Nothing  is  sure,  in  a  case  like  mine,  till  I'm  on  my 
legs  again  ;  but  I'm  certainly  better.  I  don't  expect  you 
to  be  glad,  but  I  hope  you  don't  regret  it  very  much." 

"  I  don't."  The  smile  that  accompanied  the  words 
surprised  Murry  as  much  as  the  reply,  for  both  seemed 
lionest,  and  his  kind  heart  warmed  toward  his  suffering 
enemy. 

"  I  hope  you'll  be  exchanged  as  soon  as  you  are  able. 
Till  then,  you  can  go  to  one  of  the  other  hospitals,  where 
there  are  many  reb  —  I  would  say,  Southerners.  If 
you'd  like,  I'll  speak  to  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh,  and  he'll  see  you 
moved,"  said  Murry,  in  his  friendly  way. 

"  I'd  rather  stay  here,  thank  you."     Clay  smiled  again 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  305 

as  he  spoke  in  the  mild  tone  that  surprised  Murry  as 
much  as  it  pleased  him. 

"  You  like  to  be  in  my  corner,  then?  "  he  said,  with  a 
boyish  laugh. 

"  Very  much  —  for  a- while." 

"  I'm  very  glad.     Do  you  suffer  much?  " 

"  I  shall  suffer  more  by  and  by,  if  I  go  on  ;  but  I'll 
risk  it,"  answered  Clay,  fixing  his  feverish  eyes  on 
Murry's  placid  face. 

*' You  expect  to  have  a  hard  time  with  your  leg?" 
said  Murry,  compassionately. 

"  With  my  soul." 

It  was  an  odd  answer,  and  given  with  such  an  odd 
expression,  as  Clay  turned  his  face  away,  that  Murry 
said  no  more,  fancying  his  brain  a  little  touched  by  the 
fever  evidently  coming  on. 

They  spoke  but  seldom  to  each  other  that  day,  for 
Clay  lay  apparently  asleep,  with  a  flushed  cheek  and 
restless  head,  and  Murry  tranquilly  dreamed  waking 
dreams  of  home  and  little  Mary.  That  night,  after  all 
was  still,  Miss.  Mercy  went  up  into  the  organ-loft  to  get 
fresh  rollers  for  the  morrow,  —  the  boxes  of  old  linen, 
and  such  matters,  being  kept  there.  As  she  stood  look- 
ing down  on  the  thirty  pale  sleepers,  she  remembered 
that  she  had  not  played  a  hymn  on  the  little  organ  for 
ISIurry,  as  she  had  promised  that  day.  Stealing  softly  to 
the  front,  she  peeped  over  the  gallery,  to  see  if  he  was 
asleep  ;  if  not,  she  would  keep  her  word,  for  he  was  her 
favorite. 

A  screen  had  been  drawn  before  the  recess  where  the 
two  beds  stood,  shutting  their  occupants  from  the  sight 
of  the  other  men.     Murry  lay  sleeping,  but  Clay  was 


306  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

awake,  and  a  quick  thrill  tingled  along  the  young 
woman's  nerves  as  she  saw  his  face.  Leaning  on  one 
arm,  he  peered  about  the  place  with  an  eager,  watchful 
air,  and  glanced  up  at  the  dark  gallery,  but  did  not  see 
the  startled  face  behind  the  central  pillar.  Pausing  an 
instant,  he  shook  his  one  clenched  hand  at  the  uncon- 
scious sleeper,  and  then  thrcAv  out  the  locket  cautiously. 
Two  white  mugs,  just  alike,  stood  on  the  little  table 
between  the  beds,  water  in  each.  With  another  furtive 
glance  about  him.  Clay  suddenly  stretched  out  his  long 
arm,  and  dropped  something  from  the  locket  into  Murry's 
cup.  An  instant  he  remained  motionless,  with  a  sinister 
smile  on  his  face ;  then,  as  Jim's  step  sounded  beyond 
the  screen,  he  threw  his  arm  over  his  face,  and  lay, 
breathing  heavily,  as  if  asleep. 

Mercy's  first  impulse  was  to  cry  out ;  her  next,  to  fly 
down  and  seize  the  cup.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  for 
Murry  might  wake  and  drink  at  any  moment.  What 
was  in  the  cup?  Poison,  doubtless  ;  that  was  the  charm 
Clay  carried  to  free  himself  from  "  pain,  captivity  and 
shame,"  when  all  other  hopes  of  escape  vanished.  This 
hidden  helper  he  gave  up  to  destroy  his  enemy,  who  was 
to  outlive  his  shot,  it  seemed.  Like  a  shadow,  Mercy 
glided  down,  forming  her  plan  as  she  went.  A  dozen 
mugs  stood  about  the  room,  all  alike  in  size  and  color ; 
catching  up  one,  she  partly  filled  it,  and,  concealing  it 
under  the  clean  sheet  hanging  on  her  arm,  went  toward 
the  recess,  saying  audibly,  — 

"  I  want  some  fresh  water,  Jim." 

Thus  warned  of  her  approach.  Clay  lay  with  carefully- 
averted  face  as  she  came  in,  and  never  stirred  as  she 
bent  over  him,  while  she  dexterously  changed  Murry's 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  307 

mug  for  the  oue  she  carried.     Hiding  the  poisoned  cup, 
she  went  away,  saying  aloud,  — 

"  Never  mind  the  water,  now,  Jim.  Murry  is  asleep, 
and  so  is  Clay  ;  they'll  not  need  it  yet." 

Straight  to  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh's  room  she  went,  and  gave 
the  cup  into  his  keeping,  with  the  story  of  what  she  had 
seen.  A  man  was  dying,  and  there  was  no  time  to  test 
the  water  then  ;  but  putting  it  carefully  away,  he  prom- 
ised to  set  her  fears  at  rest  in  the  morning.  To  quiet 
her  impatience,  Mercy  went  back  to  watch  over  Murry 
till  day  dawned.  As  she  sat  down,  she  caught  the  glim- 
mer of  a  satisfied  smile  on  Clay's  lips,  and  looking  into 
the  cup  she  had  left,  she  saw  that  it  was  empty. 

"  He  is  satisfied,  for  he  thinks  his  horrible  revenge  is 
secure.  Sleep  in  peace,  my  poor  boy !  you  are  safe 
while  I  am  here." 

As  she  thought  this,  she  put  her  hand  on  the  broad, 
pale  forehead  of  the  sleeper  with  a  motherly  caress,  but 
started  to  feel  how  damp  and  cold  it  was.  Looking 
nearer,  she  saw  that  a  change  had  passed  over  Murry, 
for  dark  shadows  showed  about  his  sunken  eyes,  his  once 
quiet  breath  Avas  faint  and  fitful  now,  his  hand  deathly 
cold,  and  a  chilly  dampness  had  gathered  on  his  face. 
She  looked  at  her  watch ;  it  was  past  twelve,  and  her 
heart  sunk  within  her,  for  she  had  so  often  seen  that 
solemn  change  come  over  men's  faces  then,  that  the  hour 
was  doubly  weird  and  woful  to  her.  Sending  a  message 
to  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh,  she  waited  anxiously,  trying  to  believe 
that  she  deceived  herself. 

The  doctor  came  at  once,  and  a  single  look  convinced 
him  that  he  had  left  one  death-bed  for  another. 

"  As  I  feared,"  he  said ;  "  that  sudden  rally  was  but 


3o8  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

a  last  effort  of  nature.  Tliere  was  just  one  chance  for 
him,  and  he  has  missed  it.  Poor  Lad  !  I  can  do  nothing  ; 
he'll  sink  rapidly,  and  go  without  pain." 

"Can  I  do  nothing?"  asked  Mercy,  with  dim  eyes, 
as  she  held  the  cold  hand  close  in  both  her  own  with 
tender  pressure. 

"  Give  him  stimulants  as  long  as  he  can  swallow,  and, 
if  he's  conscious,  take  any  messages  he  may  have.  Poor 
Hall  is  dpng  hard,  and  I  can  help  him  ;  I'll  come  again 
in  an  hour,  and  say  good-by." 

The  kind  doctor  choked,  touched  the  pale  sleeper  with 
a  gentle  caress,  and  went  away  to  help  Hall  die. 

Murry  slept  on  for  an  hour,  then  woke,  and  knew 
without  words  that  his  brief  hope  was  gone.  He  looked 
up  wistfully,  and  whispered,  as  Mercy  tried  to  smile  with 
trembling  lips  that  refused  to  tell  the  heavy  truth,  — 

"  I  know —  I  feel  it ;  don't  grieve  yourself  by  trying  to 
tell  me,  dear  friend.  It's  best  so  ;  I  can  bear  it,  —  but  I 
did  want  to  live." 

"Have  you  any  word  for  Mary,  dear?"  asked  Mercy, 
for  he  seemed  but  a  boy  to  her  since  she  had  nursed 
him. 

One  look  of  sharp  anguish  and  dark  despair  passed 
over  his  face,  as  he  wrung  his  thin  hands  and  shut  his 
eyes,  finding  death  terrible.  It  passed  in  a  moment,  and 
his  pallid  countenance  gi^ew  beautiful  with  the  pathetic 
patience  of  one  who  submits  without  complaint  to  the 
inevitable. 

"  Tell  her  I  was  ready,  and  the  only  bitterness  was 
lea^-ing  her.  I  shall  remember,  and  wait  until  she 
comes.  My  little  Mary !  O,  be  kind  to  her,  for  my 
sake,  when  you  teU  her  this." 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  3O9 

"  I  will,  Murry,  as  God  hears  me.  I  will  be  a  sister 
to  her  while  I  live." 

As  Mercy  spoke,  with  fervent  voice,  he  laid  the  hand 
that  had  ministered  to  him  so  faithfully  against  his  cheek, 
and  lay  silent,  as  if  content. 

"  What  else?  let  me  do  something  more.  Is  there  no 
other  friend  to  be  comforted  ?  " 

"  No  ;  she  is  all  I  have  in  the  world.  I  hoped  to 
make  her  so  happy,  to  be  so  much  to  her,  for  she's  a 
lonely  Uttle  thing ;  but  God  says  '  No,'  and  I  submit." 

A  long  pause,  as  he  lay  breathing  heavily,  with  eyes 
that  were  dimming  fast  fixed  on  the  gentle  face  beside 
him. 

''  Give  Jim  my  clothes,  send  Mary  a  bit  of  my  hair, 
and  —  may  I  give  you  this?  it's  a  poor  thing,  but  all  I 
have  to  leave  you,  best  and  kindest  of  women." 

He  tried  to  draw  off  a  slender  ring,  but  the  strength 
had  gone  out  of  his  w^asted  fingers,  and  she  helped  him, 
thanking  him  with  the  first  tears  he  had  seen  her  shed. 
He  seemed  satisfied,  but  suddenly  turned  his  eyes  on 
Clay,  who  lay  as  if  asleep.  A  sigh  broke  from  Murry, 
and  Mercy  caught  the  words,  — 

"  How  could  he  do  it,  and  I  so  helpless  !  " 

"  Do  you  know  him?"  she  whispered,  eagerly,  as  she 
remembered  Clay's  own  words. 

"  I  knew  he  was  the  man  who  shot  me,  when  he  came. 
I  forgive  him  ;  but  I  wish  he  had  spared  me,  for  Mary's 
sake,"  he  answered  sorrowfully,  not  angrily. 

"Do  you  really  pardon  him?"  cried  Mercy,  wonder- 
ing, yet  touched  by  the  words. 

"I  do.  He  will  be  sorry  one  day,  perhaps  ;  at  any 
rate,  he  did  what  he  thought  his  duty  ;  and  war  makes 


3IO  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

brutes  of  us  all  sometimes,  I  fear.  I'd  like  to  say  good- 
by  ;  but  he's  asleep  after  a  weary  day,  so  don't  wake 
him.  Tell  him  I'm  glad  he  is  to  live,  and  that  I  forgive 
him  heartily." 

Although  uttered  between  long  pauses,  these  words 
seemed  to  have  exhausted  Murry,  and  he  spoke  no  more 
till  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh  came.  To  him  he  feebly  returned 
thanks,  and  whispered  his  farewell,  then  sank  into  a  stu- 
por, during  which  life  ebbed  fast.  Both  nurse  and  doctor 
forgot  Clay  as  they  hung  over  Murry,  and  neither  saw 
the  strange  intentness  of  his  face,  the  half  awe-struck, 
half  remorseful  look  he  bent  upon  the  dying  man. 

As  the  sun  rose,  sending  its  ruddy  beams  across  the 
silent  ward,  Murry  looked  up  and  smiled,  for  the  bright 
ray  fell  athwart  the  two  coats  hanging  on  the  wall  beside 
him.  Some  passer-by  had  brushed  one  sleeve  of  the  blue 
coat  across  the  gray,  as  if  the  inanimate  things  were 
shaking  hands. 

"  It  should  be  so  —  love  our  enemies;  we  should  be 
brothers,"  he  murmured  faintly ;  and,  with  the  last  im- 
pulse of  a  noble  nature,  stretched  his  hand  toward  the 
man  w^ho  had  murdered  him. 

But  Clay  shrunk  back,  and  covered  his  face  without  a 
word.  When  he  ventured  to  look  up,  Murry  was  no 
longer  there.  A  pale,  peaceful  figure  lay  on  the  narrow 
bed,  and  Mercy  was  smoothing  the  brown  locks  as  she 
cut  a  curl  for  Mary  and  herself.  Clay  could  not  take  his 
eyes  away ;  as  if  fascinated  by  its  serenity,  he  watched 
the  dead  face  with  gloomy  eyes,  till  Mercy,  having  done 
her  part,  stooped  and  kissed  the  cold  lips  tenderly  as  she 
left  him  to  his  sleep.  Then,  as  if  afraid  to  be  alone  with 
the  dead,  he  bid  Jim  put  the  screen  between  the  beds. 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY.  3II 

and  bring  him  a  book.  His  order  was  obeyed  ;  but  he 
never  turned  his  pfiges,  and  lay,  with  muffled  head,  try- 
ing to  shut  out  little  Watts'  sobs,  as  the  wounded  drum- 
mer boy  mourned  for  Murry. 

Death  in  an  hospital  makes  no  stir,  and  in  an  hour  no 
trace  of  the  departed  remained  but  the  coat  upon  the 
wall,  for  Jim  would  not  take  it  down,  though  it  was  his 
now.  The  empty  bed  stood  freshly  made,  the  clean  cup 
and  worn  Bible  lay  ready  for  other  hands,  and  the  card 
at  the  bed's  head  hung  blank  for  a  new-comer's  name. 
In  the  hurry  of  this  event.  Clay's  attempted  crime  was 
forgotten  for  a  time.  But  that  evening  Dr.  Fitz  Hugh 
told  Mercy  that  her  suspicions  were  correct,  for  the  water 
luas  poisoned. 

"  How  horrible  !  what  shall  we  do?"  she  cried,  with 
a  ^resture  full  of  enero^etic  indio^nation. 

"  Leave  him  to  remorse  !  "  replied  the  doctor,  sternly. 
*'  I've  thought  over  the  matter,  and  believe  this  to  be  the 
only  thing  Ave  can  do.  I  fancy  the  man  won't  live  a 
week  ;  his  leg  is  in  a  bad  way,  and  he  is  such  a  fiery 
devil  he  gives  himself  no  chance.  Let  him  believe  he 
killed  poor  Murry,  at  least  for  a  few  days.  He  thinks 
so  now,  and  tries  to  rejoice  ;  but  if  he  has  a  human  heart 
he  will  repent." 

"But  he  may  not.  Should  we  not  tell  of  this?  Can 
he  not  be  punished  ?  " 

"Law  won't  hang  a  dying  man,  and  I'll  not  denounce 
him.  Let  remorse  punish  him  while  he  lives,  and  God 
judge  him  when  he  dies.  Murry  pardoned  him,  —  can 
we  do  less  ?  " 

Mercy's  indignant  face  softened  at  the  name,  and  for 
Murry's  sake  she  yielded.     Neither   spoke  of  what  they 


312  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

tried  to  think  the  act  of  a  half-delirious  man  ;  and  soon 
they  could  not  refuse  to  pity  him,  for^  the  doctor's  proph- 
ecy proved  true. 

Clay  was  a  haunted  man,  and  remorse  gnawed  like  a 
worm  at  his  heart.  Day  and  night  he  saw  that  tranquil 
face  on  the  pillow  opposite  ;  day  and  night  he  saw  the 
pale  hand  outstretched  to  him  ;  day  and  night  he  heard 
the  faint  voice  murmuring  kindly,  regretfully,  "  I  forgive 
him  ;  but  I  wish  he  had  spared  me,  for  Mary's  sake." 

As  the  days  passed,  and  his  strength  visibly  declined, 
he  began  to  suspect  that  he  must  soon  follow  Murry. 
No  one  told  him  ;  for,  though  both  doctor  and  nurse  did 
their  duty  faithfully,  neither  lingered  long  at  his  bedside, 
and  not  one  of  the  men  showed  any  interest  in  him.  No 
new  patient  occupied  the  other  bed,  and  he  lay  alone  in 
the  recess  with  his  own  gloomy  thoughts. 

"It  will  be  all  up  with  me  in  a  few  days,  won't  it?" 
he  asked,  abruptly,  as  Jim  made  his  toilet  one  morning 
with  unusual  care,  and  such  visible  pity  in  his  rough  face 
that  Clay  could  not  but  observe  it. 

"  I  heard  the  doctor  say  you  wouldn't  suffer  much 
more.  Is  there  any  one  you'd  like  to  see,  or  leave  a 
message  for  ?  "  answered  Jim,  smoothing  the  long  locks 
as  gently  as  a  woman. 

"  There  isn't  a  soul  in  the  world  that  cares  whether  I 
live  or  die,  except  the  man  who  wants  my  money,"  said 
Clay,  bitterly,  as  his  dark  face  grew  a  shade  paler  at  this 
confirmation  of  his  fear. 

"  Can't  you  head  him  off  some  way,  and  leave  your 
money  to  some  one  that's  been  kind  to  you  ?  Here's  the 
doctor  —  or,  better  still.  Miss  Can-ol.  Neither  on  'em 
is  rich,  and  both  on  'em  has  been  good  friends  to  you,  or 


THE    BLUE    AND    THE    GRAY,  313 

you'd  'a'  fared  a  deal  wus  than  you  have,"  said  Jim,  not 
Avithout  the  hope  that,  in  saying  a  good  word  for  them, 
he  might  say  one  for  himself  also. 

Clay  lay  thinking  for  a  moment  as  his  face  clouded 
over,  and  tlien  brightened  again  : 

"  Miss  Mercy  wouldn't  take  it,  nor  the  doctor  either  ; 
but  I  know  who  will  —  and,  by  G — d,  I'll  do  it !  "  he 
exclaimed,  with  sudden  energy. 

His  eye  happened  to  rest  on  Jim  as  he  spoke,  and 
feeling  sure  that  he  was  to  be  the  heir,  Jim  retired  to 
send  Miss  Mercy,  that  the  matter  might  be  settled  before 
Clay's  mood  changed.  Miss  Carrol  came,  and  began  to 
cut  the  buttons  off  Murry's  coat  while  she  waited  for 
Clay  to  speak. 

"What's  that  for?"  he  asked,  restlessly. 

"  The  men  want  them,  and  Jim  is  willing,  for  the  coat 
is  very  old  and  ragged,  you  see.  Murry  gave  his  good 
one  away  to  a  sicker  comrade,  and  took  this  instead.  It 
Avas  like  him,  —  my  poor  boy  !  " 

"  I'd  like  to  speak  to  you,  if  you  have  a  minute  to 
spare,"  began  Clay,  after  a  pause,  during  which  he 
watched  her  with  a  wistful,  almost  tender  expression, 
unseen  by  her. 

"  I  have  time  ;  what  can  I  do  for  you? "  Very  gentle 
was  Mercy's  voice,  very  pitiful  her  glance,  as  she  sat 
down  by  him,  for  the  change  in  his  manner,  and  the 
thought  of  his  approaching  death,  touched  her  heart. 

Trying  to  resume  his  former  gruffness,  and  cold  expres- 
sion, Clay  said,  as  he  picked  nervously  at  the  blanket, — 

"I've  a  little  property  that  I  put  into  the  care  of  a 
friend  going  North.  He's  kept  it  safe  ;  and  now,  as  I'll 
never  want  it  myself,  I'd  like  to  leave   it  to — ".     He 

-• 


314  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    SI  ORIES. 

paused  an  instant,  glanced  quickly  at  Mercy's  face,  and 
seeing  only  womanly  compassion  there,  added,  with  an 
irrepressible  tremble  in  his  voice, —  "To  little  Mary." 

If  he  had  expected  any  reward  for  the  act,  any  comfort 
for  his  lonely  death-bed,  he  received  both  in  fullest  meas- 
ure when  he  saw  Mercy's  beautiful  face  flush  with  sur- 
prise and  pleasure,  her  eyes  fill  with  sudden  tears,  and 
heard  her  cordial  voice,  as  she  pressed  his  hand  warmly 
in  her  o^vn. 

"  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  for  this  !  I 
thought  you  were  better  than  you  seemed  ;  1  was  sure 
you  had  both  heart  and  conscience,  and  that  you  would 
repent  before  you  died." 

"  Repent  of  what?  "  he  asked,  with  a  startled  look. 

"  Need  I  tell  you?"  and  her  eye  went  from  the  empty 
bed  to  his  face. 

''You  mean  that  shot?  But  it  was  only  fair,  after 
all ;  we  killed  each  other,  and  war  is  nothing  but  whole- 
sale murder,  any  way."  He  spoke  easily,  but  his  eyes 
were  full  of  trouble,  and  other  words  seemed  to  tremble 
on  his  lips. 

Leaning  nearer,  Mercy  whispered  in  his  ear,  — 

"  I  mean  the  other  murder,  which  you  would  have 
committed  when  you  poisoned  the  cup  of  water  he  offered 
you,  his  enemy." 

Every  vestige  of  color  faded  out  of  Clay's  thin  face, 
and  his  haggard  eyes  seemed  fascinated  by  some  spectre 
opposite,  as  he  muttered  slowly,  — 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  I  saw  you  ;  "  and  she  told  him  all  the  truth. 

A  look  of  intense  relief  passed  over  Clay's  counte- 


THE    BLUE    AMD    THE    GRAY.  315 

nance,  and  the  remorseful  shadow  lifted  as  he  murmured, 
brokenly,  — 

"  Thank  God  I  didn't  kill  him  !  Now,  dying  isn't  so 
hard ;  now  I  can  have  a  little  peace." 

Neither  spoke  for  several  minutes ;  Mercy  had  no 
words  for  such  a  time,  and  Clay  forgot  her  presence  as 
the  tears  dropped  from  between  the  wasted  fingers  spread 
before  his  face. 

Presently  he  looked  up,  saying  eagerly,  as  if  his  flut- 
tering breath  and  rapidly  failing  strength  warned  him  of 
approaching  death,  — 

"  Will  you  ■^^Tite  down  a  few  words  for  me,  so  Mary 
can  have  the  money?  She  needn't  know  anything  about 
me,  only  that  I  was  one  to  whom  Murry  was  kind,  and 
so  I  gave  her  all  I  had." 

"  I'll  get  my  pen  and  paper  ;  rest,  now,  my  poor  fel- 
low," said  Mercy,  wiping  the  unheeded  tears  away  for 
him. 

"  How  good  it  seems  to  hear  you  speak  so  to  me  !  How 
can  you  do  it  ?  "  he  whispered,  with  such  grateful  won- 
der in  his  dim  eyes  that  Mercy's  heart  smote  her  for  the 
past. 

"I  do  it  for  Murry's  sake,  and  because  I  sincerely 
pity  you." 

Timidly  turning  his  lips  to  that  kind  hand,  he  kissed 
it,  and  then  hid  his  face  in  his  pillow.  When  Mercy 
returned,  she  observed  that  there  were  but  seven  tarnished 
buttons  where  she  had  left  eight.  She  guessed  who  had 
taken  it,  but  said  nothing,  and  endeavored  to  render  poor 
Clay's  last  hours  as  happy  as  sympathy  and  care  could 
make  them.  The  letter  and  will  were  prepared  as  well 
as   they  could  be,  and   none   too   soon  ;   for,  as   if  that 


3l6  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

secret  was  the  burden  that  bouDd  Clay's  spirit  to  the 
shattered  body,  no  sooner  was  it  lifted  off  than  the 
diviner  part  seemed  ready  to  be  gone. 

"  You'll  stay  with  me  ;  you'll  help  me  die  ;  and  —  oh, 
if  I  dared  to  ask  it,  I'd  beg  you  to  kiss  me  once  when  I 
am  dead,  as  you  did  Murry.  I  think  I  could  rest  then, 
and  be  fitter  to  meet  him,  if  the  Lord  lets  me,"  he  cried 
imploringly,  as  the  last  night  gathered  around  him,  and 
the  coming  change  seemed  awful  to  a  soul  that  possessed 
no  inward  peace,  and  no  firm  hope  to  lean  on  tlirough  the 
valley  of  the  shadow. 

"I  will  —  I  will!  Hold  fast  to  me,  and  believe  in 
the  eternal  mercy  of  God,"  whispered  Miss  Carrol,  with 
her  firm  hand  in  his,  her  tender  face  bending  over  him 
as  the  long  struggle  began. 

"  Mercy,"  he  murmured,  catching  that  word,  and  smil- 
ing feebly  as  he  repeated  it  liugeringly.  *'  Mercy  !  yes, 
I  believe  in  her ;  she'll  save  me,  if  any  one  can.  Lord, 
bless  and  keep  her  forever  and  forever." 

There  was  no  morning  sunshine  to  gladden  his  dim 
eyes  as  they  looked  their  last,  but  the  pale  glimmer  of 
the  lamp  shone  full  on  the  blue  and  the  gray  coats  hang- 
ing side  by  side.  As  if  the  sight  recalled  that  other 
death-bed,  that  last  act  of  brotherly  love  and  pardon. 
Clay  rose  up  in  his  bed,  and  while  one  hand  clutched  the 
button  hidden  in  his  breast,  the  other  was  outstretched 
toward  the  empty  bed,  as  his  last  breath  parted  in  a  cry 
of  remorseful  longing,  — 

"  I  will !  I  will !  Forgive  me,  Murry,  and  let  me  say 
good-by  \ " 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS. 

MERRY  Christmas  !  "  "  Merry  Christmas  ! "  "  Merry 
Christmas,  and  lots  of  'em,  ma'am ! "  echoed  from 
every  side,  as  Miss  Hale  entered  her  ward  in  the  gray 
December  dawn.  No  wonder  the  greetings  were  hearty, 
that  thin  faces  brightened,  and  eyes  watched  for  the  com- 
ing of  this  small  luminary  more  eagerly  than  for  the 
rising  of  the  sun  ;  for  when  they  woke  that  morning, 
each  man  found  that  in  the  silence  of  the  night  some 
friendly  hand  had  laid  a  little  gift  beside  his  bed.  Very 
humble  little  gifts  they  were,  but  well  chosen  and  thought- 
fully bestowed  by  one  who  made  the  blithe  anniversary 
pleasant  even  in  a  hospital,  and  sweetly  taught  the  lesson 
of  the  hour  —  Peace  on  earth,  good- will  to  man. 

"  I  say,  ma'am,  these  are  just  splendid.  I've  dreamt 
about  such  for  a  week,  but  I  never  thought  I'd  get  'em," 
cried  one  poor  fellow,  surveying  a  fine  bunch  of  grapes 
Avith  as  much  satisfaction  as  if  he  had  found  a  fortune. 

"  Thank  you  kindly.  Miss,  for  the  paper  and  the  fix- 
ings. I  hated  to  keep  borrowing,  but  I  hadn't  any 
money,"  said  another,  eying  his  gift  with  happy  anticipa- 
tions of  the  home  letters  with  which  the  generous  pages 
should  be  filled. 

"They  are  dreadful  soft  and  pretty,  but  I  don't  believe 
I'll  ever  wear  'em  out ;  my  legs  are  so  wimbly  there's  no 

(317) 


3l8  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

go  in  'em,"  whispered  a  fever  patient,  looking  sorrowfully 
at  the  swollen  feet  ornamented  with  a  pair  of  carpet 
slippers  gay  with  roses,  and  evidently  made  for  his 
especial  need. 

"  Please  hang  my  posy  basket  on  the  gas-burner  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  where  all  the  boys  can  see  it.  It's 
too  pretty  for  one  alone." 

"  But  then  you  can't  see  it  yourself,  Joe,  and  you  are 
fonder  of  such  things  than  the  rest,"  said  Miss  Hale, 
taking  both  the  little  basket  and  the  hand  of  her  pet 
patient,  a  lad  of  twenty,  dying  of  rapid  consumption. 

"  That's  the  reason  I  can  spare  it  for  a  while,  for  I 
shall  feel  'em  in  the  room  just  the  same,  and  they'll  do 
the  boys  good.  You  pick  out  the  one  you  like  best,  for 
me  to  keep,  and  hang  up  the  rest  till  by-and-by,  please." 

She  gave  him  a  sprig  of  mignonette,  and  he  smiled  as 
he  took  it,  for  it  reminded  him  of  her  in  her  sad-colored 
gown,  as  quiet  and  unobtrusive,  but  as  grateful  to  the 
hearts  of  those  about  her  as  was  the  fresh  scent  of  the  flower 
to  the  lonely  lad  who  never  had  known  womanly  tender- 
ness and  care  until  he  found  them  in  a  hospital.  Joe's 
prediction  was  verified  ;  the  flowers  did  do  the  boys  good, 
for  all  welcomed  them  with  approving  glances,  and  all 
felt  their  refining  influence  more  or  less  keenly,  from 
cheery  Ben,  Avho  paused  to  fill  the  cup  inside  with  fresher 
water,  to  surly  Sam,  who  stopped  growling  as  his  eye 
rested  on  a  geranium  very  like  the  one  blooming  in  his 
sweetheart's  window  when  they  parted  a  long  year  ago. 

"  Now,  as  this  is  to  be  a  merry  day,  let  us  begin  to 
enjoy  it  at  once.  Fling  up  the  windows,  Ben,  and  Bar- 
ney, go  for  breakfast  while  I  finish  washing  faces  and 
settling  bed-clothes." 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  319 

With  which  directions  the  little  woman  fell  to  work 
with  such  infectious  energy  that  in  fifteen  minutes  thirty 
gentlemen  with  spandy  clean  faces  and  hands  were  par- 
taking of  refreshment  with  as  much  appetite  as  their 
various  conditions  would  permit.  Meantime  the  sun 
came  up,  looking  bigger,  brighter,  jollier  than  usual,  as 
he  is  apt  to  do  on  Christmas  days.  Not  a  snow-flake 
chilled  the  air  that  blew  in  as  blandly  as  if  winter  had 
relented,  and  wished  the  "  boys  "  the  compliments  of  the 
season  in  his  mildest  mood  ;  while  a  festival  smell  per- 
vaded the  whole  house,  and  appetizing  rumors  of  turkey, 
mince-pie,  and  oysters  for  dinner,  circulated  through  the 
wards.  TVhen  breakfast  was  done,  the  wounds  dressed, 
directions  for  the  day  delivered,  and  as  many  of  the  dis- 
agi'eeables  as  possible  well  over,  the  fun  began.  In  any 
other  place  that  would  have  been  considered  a  very  quiet 
morning ;  but  to  the  weary  invalids  prisoned  in  that 
room,  it  was  quite  a  whirl  of  excitement.  None  were 
dangerously  ill  but  Joe,  and  all  were  easily  amused,  for 
weakness,  homesickness  and  ennui  made  every  trifle  a 
joke  or  an  event. 

In  came  Ben,  looking  like  a  "  Jack  in  the  Green,"  with 
his  load  of  hemlock  and  holly.  Such  of  the  men  as 
could  get  about  and  had  a  hand  to  lend,  lent  it,  and  soon, 
under  Miss  Hale's  direction,  a  green  bough  hung  at  the 
head  of  each  bed,  depended  from  the  gas-burners,  and 
nodded  over  the  fireplace,  while  the  finishing  effect  was 
given  by  a  cross  and  crov/n  at  the  top  and  bottom  of  the 
room.  Great  was  the  interest,  many  were  the  mishaps, 
and  frequent  was  the  laughter  which  attended  this  per- 
formance ;  for  Avounded  men,  when  convalescent,  are  par- 
ticularly jovial.    When  ''  Daddy  Mills,"  as  one  venerable 


320 


CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 


volunteer  was  irreverently  christened,  expatiated  learn- 
edly upon  the  difference  between  "  sprewce,  hemlock  and 
pine,"  how  they  all  listened,  each  thinking  of  some 
familiar  wood  still  pleasantly  haunted  by  boyish  recol- 
lections of  stolen  gunnings,  gum-pickings,  and  bird-nest- 
ings. When  quiet  Hayward  amazed  the  company  by 
coming  out  strong  in  a  most  unexpected  direction,  and 
telling  with  much  effect  the  story  of  a  certain  "  fine  old 
gentleman  "  who  supped  on  hemlock  tea  and  died  like  a 
hero,  what  commendations  were  bestowed  upon  the  im- 
mortal heathen  in  language  more  hearty  than  classical, 
as  a  twig  of  the  historical  tree  was  passed  round  like  a 
new  style  of  refreshment,  that  inquiring  parties  might 
satisfy  themselves  regarding  the  flavor  of  the  Socratic 
draught.  When  Barney,  the  colored  incapable,  essayed 
a  grand  ornament  above  the  door,  and  relying  upon  one 
insufficient  nail,  descended  to  survey  his  success  with  the 
proud  exclamation,  "  Look  at  de  neatness  of  dat  job, 
gen'l'men,"  —  at  which  point  the  whole  thing  tumbled 
down  about  his  ears,  —  how  they  all  shouted  but  Pneu- 
monia Ned,  who,  having  lost  liis  voice,  could  only  make 
ecstatic  demonstrations  vnth  his  legs.  When  Barney  cast 
himself  and  his  hammer  despairingly  upon  the  floor,  and 
Miss  Hale,  stepping  into  a  chair,  pounded  stoutly  at  the 
traitorous  nail  aud  performed  some  miracle  with  a  bit 
of  string  which  made  all  fast,  what  a  burst  of  applause 
arose  from  the  beds.  When  gruff  Dr.  Bangs  came  in  to 
see  what  all  the  noise  was  about,  and  the  same  intrepid 
lady  not  only  boldly  explained,  but  stuck  a  bit  of  holly  in 
his  button-hole,  and  wished  him  a  merry  Christmas  with 
such  a  face  full  of  smiles  that  the  crabbed  old  doctor  felt 
himself  giving  in  very  fast,  and  bolted  out  again,  calling 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  33 1 

Christmas  a  humbug,  and  exulting  over  the  thirty  emetics 
he  Avould  ha\c  to  prescribe  on  the  morrow,  what  indig- 
nant denials  followed  him.  And  when  all  was  done, 
how  everybody  agreed  with  Joe  when  he  said,  "  I  think 
we  are  coming  Christmas  in  great  style  ;  things  look  so 
green  and  pretty,  I  feel  as  I  was  settin'  in  a  bower." 

Pausing  to  survey  her  work,  Miss  Hale  saw  Sam  look- 
ing as  black  as  any  thunder-cloud.  He  bounced  over  on 
his  bed  the  moment  he  caught  her  eye,  but  she  followed 
him  up,  and  gently  covering  the  cold  shoulder  he  evi- 
dently meant  to  show  her,  peeped  over  it,  asking,  with 
unabated  gentleness,  — 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  Sam?  I  want  to  have  all 
the  faces  in  my  ward  bright  ones  to-day." 

"  My  box  ain't  come  ;  they  said  I  should  have  it  two, 
three  days  ago  ;  why  don't  they  do  it,  then  ?  "  growled 
Ursur  Major. 

"  It  is  a  busy  time,  you  know,  but  it  will  come  if  they 
promised,  and  patience  won't  delay  it,  I  assure  you." 

"  My  patience  is  used  up,  and  they  are  a  mean  set  of 
slow  coaches.  I'd  get  it  fast  enough  if  I  wore  shoulder 
straps  ;  as  I  don't,  I'll  bet  I  sha'n't  see  it  till  the  things 
ain't  fit  to  eat ;  the  news  is  old,  and  I  don't  care  a  hang 
about  it." 

"  I'll  see  what  I  can  do  ;  perhaps  before  the  hurry  of 
dinner  begins  some  one  will  have  time  to  go  for  it." 

"  Nobody  ever  does  have  time  here  but  folks  who 
would  give  all  they  are  worth  to  be  stirring  round.  You 
can't  get  it,  I  know ;  it's  my  luck,  so  don't  you  worry, 
ma'am." 

Miss  Hale  did  not  "  worry,"  but  worked,  and  in  time 
a    messenger  was    found,   provided  with   the    necessary 


322  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

money,  pass  and  directions,  and  despatched  to  hunt  np 
the  missing  Christmas-box.  Then  she  paused  to  see 
what  came  next,  not  that  it  was  necessary  to  look  for  a 
task,  but  to  decide  which,  out  of  many,  was  most  impor- 
tant to  do  first. 

"  Why,  Turner,  crying  again  so  soon?  What  is  it 
now?  the  light  head  or  the  heavy  feet?  " 

"  It's  my  bones,  ma*am.  They  ache  so  I  can't  Liy 
easy  any  way,  and  I'm  so  tired  I  just  wish  I  could  die 
and  be  out  of  this  misery,"  sobbed  the  poor  ghost  of  a 
once  strong  and  cheery  fellow,  as  the  kind  hand  wiped 
his  tears  away,  and  gently  rubbed  the  weary  shoulders. 

"  Don't  wish  that  Tm-ner,  for  the  worst  is  over  now, 
and  all  you  need  is  to  get  your  strength  again.  Make 
an  effort  to  sit  up  a  little ;  it  is  quite  time  you  tried ;  a 
change  of  posture  will  help  the  ache  wonderfully,  and 
make  this  '  dreadful  bed,'  as  you  call  it,  seem  very  com- 
fortable when  you  come  back  to  it." 

"  I  can't,  ma'am,  my  legs  ain't  a  bit  of  use,  and  I 
ain't  strong  enough  even  to  try." 

"  You  never  will  be  if  you  don't  try.  Never  mind 
the  poor  legs,  Ben  will  carry  you.  I've  got  the  matron's 
easy-chair  all  ready,  and  can  make  you  Yevj  cosy  by  the 
fire.  It's  Christmas-day,  you  know  ;  why  not  celebrate  it 
by  overcoming  the  despondency  which  retards  your  re- 
covery, and  prove  that  illness  has  not  taken  all  the  man- 
hood out  of  you  ?  " 

"  It  has,  though,  I'll  never  be  the  man  I  was,  and  may 
as  well  lay  here  till  spring,  for  I  shall  be  no  use  if  I  do 
get  up." 

If  Sam  was  a  gi'owler  this  man  was  a  whiner,  and 
few  hospital  wards  are  without  both.     But  knowing  that 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  323 

much  snfFermg  had  soured  the  former  and  pitifully  weak- 
ened the  latter,  their  nurse  had  patience  with  them,  and 
still  hoped  to  bring  them  round  again.  As  Turner  whim- 
pered out  his  last  dismal  speech  she  bethought  herself  of 
something  which,  in  the  hurry  of  the  morning,  had 
slipped  her  mind  till  now. 

"  By  the  way,  I've  got  another  present  for  you.  The 
doctor  thought  I'd  better  not  give  it  yet,  lest  it  should 
excite  you  too  much  ;  but  I  think  you  need  excitement  to 
make  you  forget  yourself,  and  that  when  you  find  how 
many  blessings  you  have  to  be  grateful  for,  you  will 
make  an  effort  to  enjoy  them." 

"Blessings,  ma'am?     I  don't  see  'em." 

"  Don't  you  see  one  now?"  and  drawing  a  letter  from 
her  pocket  she  held  it  before  his  eyes.  His  listless  face 
brightened  a  little  as  he  took  it,  but  gloomed  over  again 
as  he  said  fretfully,  — 

"  It's  from  wife,  I  guess.  I  like  to  get  her  letters,  but 
they  are  always  full  of  grievings  and  groanings  over  me, 
so  they  don't  do  me  much  good." 

"  She  does  not  grieve  and  groan  in  this  one.  She  is  too 
happy  to  do  that,  and  so  will  you  be  when  you  read  it." 

"  I  don't  see  Avhy,  —  hey  ?  —  why  you  don't  mean  —  " 

"Yes  I  do!"  cried  the  little  woman,  clapping  her 
hands,  and  laughing  so  delightedly  that  the  Knight  of  the 
Rueful  Countenance  was  betrayed  into  a  broad  smile  for 
the  first  time  in  many  weeks.  "  Is  not  a  splendid  little 
daughter  a  present  to  rejoice  over  and  be  grateful  for?" 

"  Hooray  !  hold  on  a  bit,  —  it's  all  right,  —  I'll  be  out 
again  in  a  minute." 

After  which  remarkably  spirited  burst.  Turner  vanished 
under  the  bed-clothes,  letter  and  all.     Whether  he  read, 


324  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

lauglied  or  cried,  in  the  seclusion  of  that  cotton  grotto, 
■was  unknown  ;  but  liis  nurse  suspected  that  he  did  all 
three,  for  ■when  he  reappeared  he  looked  as  if  during 
that  pause  he  had  dived  into  his  '•  sea  of  troubles,"  and 
fished  up  his  old  self  again. 

"  What  will  I  name  her?  "  -was  his  first  remark,  deliv- 
ered ■with  such  vivacity  that  his  neighbors  began  to  think 
he  was  getting  delirious  again. 

"  What  is  your  w^ife's  name? "  asked  Miss  Hale,  gladly 
entering  into  the  domesticities  which  were  producing 
such  a  salutary  effect. 

"  Her  name's  Ann,  but  neither  of  us  like  it.  I'd  fixed 
on  George,  for  I  wanted  my  boy  called  after  me  ;  and 
now  you  see  I  ain't  a  bit  prepared  for  this  young  woman." 
Very  proud  of  the  young  woman  he  seemed,  neverthe- 
less, and  perfectly  resigned  to  the  loss  of  the  expected 
son  and  heir. 

"Why  not  call  her  Georgiana  then  ?  That  combines 
both  her  parents'  names,  and  is  not  a  bad  one  in  itself." 

"  Xow  that's  just  the  brightest  thing  I  ever  heard  in 
my  life  !  "  cried  Turner,  sitting  bolt  upright  in  his  excite- 
ment, though  half  an  hour  before  he  would  have  consid- 
ered it  an  utterly  impossible  feat.  "  Georgiana  Butter- 
field  Turner,  —  it's  a  tip-top  name,  ma'am,  and  we  can 
call  her  Georgie  just  the  same.  Ann  will  like  that,  it's 
so  genteel.  Bless  'em  both !  don't  I  wish  I  w^as  at 
home."     And  down  he  lay  again,  despairing. 

"  You  can  be  before  long,  if  you  choose.  Get  your 
strength  up,  and  off  you  go.  Come,  begin  at  once,  — 
drink  your  beef-tea,  and  sit  up  for  a  few  minutes,  just  in 
honor  of  the  good  news,  you  know." 

"  I  will,  by  George  !  —  no,  by  Georgiana  !     That's  a 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  3^5 

good  one,  aiu't  it?"  and  the  whole  ward  was  electrified 
by  hearing  a  genuine  giggle  from  the  ''Blueing-bag." 

Down  went  the  detested  beef-tea,  and  up  scrambled 
the  determined  drinker  with  many  groans,  and  a  curious 
jumble  of  chuckles,  staggers,   and   fragmentary  repeti- 
tions of  his  first,  last,  and  only  joke.  But  when  fairly  settled 
in  the  great  rocking-chair,  with  the  gray  flannel  gown 
comfortably  on,  and  the  new  slippers  getting  their  inau- 
gural scorch,  Turner  forgot  his  bones,  and  swung  to  and 
fro  before  the  fire,  feeling  amazingly  well,  and  looking 
very  like  a  trussed  fowl  being  roasted  in  the  primitive 
iiishiou.     The  languid  importance  of  the  man,  and  the 
irrepressible  satisfaction  of  the  parent,  were  both  laugh- 
able and  touching  things  to  see,  for  the  happy  soul  could 
not  keep  the  glad  tidings  to  himself.     A  hospital  ward  is 
often   a   small   republic,  beautifully  governed   by  pity, 
patience,  and  the  mutual  sympathy  which  lessens  mutual 
suffering.     Turner  was  no  favorite  ;   but  more  than  one 
honest  feUow  felt  his  heart  warm  towards  him  as  they 
saw  his  dismal  face  kindle  with  fatherly  pride,  and  heard 
the  querulous  quaver  of  his  voice  soften  with  fatherly 
affection,  as  he  said,  "  My  little  Georgie,  sir." 

"  He'U  do  now,  ma'am  ;  this  has  given  him  the  boost 
he  needed,  and  in  a  week  or  two  he'll  be  off  our  hands." 
Big  Ben  made  the  remark  with  a  beaming  countenance, 
and  Big  Ben  deserves  a  word  of  praise,  because  he  never 
said  one  for  himself.  An  ex-patient,  promoted  to  an 
attendant's  place,  which  he  fiUed  so  weU  that  he  was 
regarded  as  a  model  for  all  the  rest  to  copy.  Patient, 
strong,  and  tender,  he  seemed  to  combine  many  of  the 
best  tmits  of  both  man  and  woman ;  for  he  appeared  to 
know  by  instinct  where  the  soft  spot  was  to  be  found 


326  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

ill  every  heart,  and  how  best  to  help  sick  body  or  sad 
soul.  No  oue  would  have  guessed  this  to  have  seen  him 
lounging  in  the  hall  during  one  of  the  short  rests  he 
allowed  himself.  A  brawny,  six-foot  fellow,  in  red  shirt, 
blue  trousers  tucked  into  his  boots,  an  old  cap,  visor 
always  up,  and  under  it  a  roughly-bearded,  coarsely- 
featured  face,  whose  prevailing  expression  was  one  of 
great  gravity  and  kindliness,  though  a  humorous  twinkle 
of  the  eye  at  times  betrayed  the  man,  whose  droll  sayings 
often  set  the  boys  in  a  roar.  "  A  good-natured,  clumsy 
body  "  would  have  been  the  verdict  passed  upon  him  by 
a  casual  observer ;  but  watch  him  in  his  ward,  and  see 
how  great  a  wrong  that  hasty  judgment  would  have 
done  him. 

Unlike  his  predecessor,  who  helped  himself  generously 
when  the  meals  came  up,  and  carelessly  served  out 
rations  for  the  rest,  leaving  even  the  most  helpless  to 
bungle  for  themselves  or  wait  till  he  was  done,  shut  him- 
self into  his  pantry,  and  there,  —  to  borrow  a  hospital 
phrase,  —  gormed,  Ben  often  left  nothing  for  himself,  or 
took  cheerfully  such  cold  bits  as  remained  when  all  the 
rest  were  served ;  so  patiently  feeding  the  weak,  being 
hands  and  feet  to  the  maimed,  and  a  pleasant  provider 
for  all  that,  as  one  of  the  boys  said,  —  "It  gives  a  relish 
to  the  vittles  to  have  Ben  fetch  'em."  If  one  were  rest- 
less, Ben  carried  him  in  his  strong  arms  ;  if  one  were 
undergoing  the  sharp  torture  of  the  surgeon's  knife,  Ben 
held  him  with  a  touch  as  firm  as  kind  ;  if  one  were  home- 
sick, Ben  wrote  letters  for  him  with  great  hearty  blots 
and  dashes  under  all  the  affectionate  or  important  words. 
More  than  one  poor  fellow  read  his  fate  in  Ben's  pitiful 
eyes,  and  breathed  his  last  breath  away  on  Ben's  broad 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS. 


O-/ 


breast,  —  always  a  quiet  pillow  till  its  work  was  done, 
then  it  would  heave  with  genuine  gricf^  as  his  big  hand 
softly  closed  the  tired  eyes,  and  made  another  comrade 
ready  for  the  last  review.  The  war  shows  us  many  Bens, 
—  for  the  same  power  of  human  pity  which  makes 
women  brave  also  makes  men  tender ;  and  each  is  the 
womanlier,  the  manlier,  for  these  revelations  of  unsus- 
pected strength  and  sympathies. 

At  tAvelve  o'clock  dinner  was  the  prevailing  idea  in 
ward  No.  3,  and  when  the  door  opened  every  man  sniffed, 
for  savory  odors  broke  loose  from  the  kitchens  and  went 
roaming  about  the  house.  Now  this  Christmas  dinner 
had  been  much  talked  of;  for  certain  charitable  and 
patriotic  persons  had  endeavored  to  provide  every  hospi- 
tal in  Washington  with  materials  for  this  time-honored 
feast.  Some  mistake  in  the  list  sent  to  head-quarters, 
some  unpardonable  neglect  of  orders,  or  some  premedi- 
tated robbery,  caused  the  long-expected  dinner  in  the 

Hospital  to  prove  a  dead  failure  ;  but  to  which  of  these 
causes  it  was  attributable  was  never  known,  for  the  deep- 
est mystery  enveloped  that  sad  transaction.  The  full 
weight  of  the  dire  disappointment  was  mercifully  light- 
ened by  premonitions  of  the  impending  blow.  Barney 
was  often  missing ;  for  the  attendants  were  to  dine  en 
masse  after  the  patients  Avere  done,  therefore  a  speedy 
banquet  for  the  latter  parties  was  ardently  desired,  and 
he  probably  devoted  his  energies  to  goading  on  the  cooks. 
From  time  to  time  he  appeared  in  the  doorway,  flushed 
and  breathless,  made  some  thrilling  announcement,  and 
vanished,  leaving  ever-increasing  appetite,  impatience 
and  expectation,  behind  him. 

Dinner  was  to  be  served  at  one  ;  at  half-past  twelve 


328  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Barney  proclaimed,  "  Dere  aiu't  no  vegetables  but  squash 
and  pitaters."  A  universal  groan  arose  ;  and  several 
indignant  parties  on  a  short  allowance  of  meat  consigned 
the  defaulting  cook  to  a  warmer  climate  than  the  tropical 
one  he  was  tHen  enjoying.  At  twenty  minutes  to  one, 
Barney  increased  the  excitement  by  whispering,  omi- 
nously, "  I  say,  de  puddins  isn't  plummy  ones." 

"  Fling  a  piller  at  him  and  shut  the  door,  Ben,"  roared 
one  irascible  being,  while  several  others  not  fond  of  pud- 
dings received  the  fact  with  equanimity.  At  quarter  to 
one  Barney  piled  up  the  agony  by  adding  the  bitter 
information,  "  Dere  isn't  but  two  turkeys  for  dis  ward, 
and  dey's  little  fellers." 

Anxiety  instantly  appeared  in  every  countenance,  and 
intricate  calculations  were  made  as  to  how  far  the  two 
fowls  would  go  when  divided  among  thirty  men  ;  also 
friendly  warnings  w^ere  administered  to  several  of  the 
feebler  gentlemen  not  to  indulge  too  freely,  if  at  all,  for 
fear  of  relapses.  Once  more  did  the  bird  of  evil  omen 
return,  for  at  ten  minutes  to  one  Barney  croaked  through 
the  key-hole,  "  Only  jes  half  ob  de  pies  has  come,  gen'l'- 
men."  That  capped  the  climax,  for  the  masculine  palate 
has  a  predilection  for  pastry,  and  mince-pie  w^as  the  sheet- 
anchor  to  which  all  had  clung  when  other  hopes  went 
down.  Even  Ben  looked  dismayed  ;  not  that  he  expected 
anything  but  the  perfume  and  pickings  for  his  share,  but 
he  had  set  his  heart  on  having  the  dinner  an  honor  to  the 
institution  and  a  memorable  feast  for  the  men,  so  far 
away  from  home,  and  all  that  usually  makes  the  day  a 
festival  among  the  poorest.  He  looked  pathetically  grave 
as  Turner  began  to  fret,  Sam  began  to  swear  under  his 
breath,  Hayward  to  sigh,  Joe  to  w^sh  it  was  all  over,  and 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  329 

the  rest  began  to  vent  their  emotions  with  a  freedom  which 
was  anything  but  inspiring.  At  that  moment  Miss  Hale 
came  in  with  a  great  basket  of  apples  and  oranges  in  one 
hand,  and  several  convivial-looking  bottles  in  the  other. 

"  Here  is  our  dessert,  boys  !  A  kind  friend  remem- 
bered us,  and  we  will  drink  her  health  in  her  own  currant 
wine." 

A  feeble  smile  circulated  round  the  room,  and  in  some 
sanguine  bosoms  hope  revived  again.  Ben  briskly  emp- 
tied the  basket,  while  Miss  Hale  whispered  to  Joe,  — 

"  I  know  you  would  be  glad  to  get  away  from  the 
confusion  of  this  next  hour,  to  enjoy  a  breath  of  fresh 
air,  and  dine  quietly  with  IVIrs.  Burton  round  the  corner, 
wouldn't  you?" 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  so  much  !  the  noise,  the  smells,  the  fret 
and  flurry,  make  me  sick  just  to  think  of!  But  how  can 
I  go  ?  that  dreadful  ambulance  'most  killed  me  last  time, 
and  I'm  weaker  now." 

"  My  dear  boy,  I  have  no  thought  of  trying  that  again 
till  our  ambulances  are  made  fit  for  the  use  of  weak  and 
wounded  men.  Mrs.  Burton's  carriage  is  at  the  door, 
with  her  motherly  self  inside,  and  all  you  have  got  to  do 
is  to  let  me  bundle  you  up,  and  Ben  carry  you  out." 

With  a  long  sigh  of  relief  Joe  submited  to  both  these 
processes,  and  when  his  nurse  watched  his  happy  face  as 
the  carriage  slowly  rolled  away,  she  felt  well  repaid  for 
the  little  sacrifice  of  rest  and  pleasure  so  quietly  made  ; 
for  Mrs.  Burton  came  to  carry  her,  not  Joe,  aAvay. 

"Now,  Ben,  help  me  to  make  this  imfortunate  dinner 
go  off  as  well  as  we  can,"  she  whispered.  ''  On  many 
accounts  it  is  a  mercy  that  the  men  are  spared  the  temp- 
tations of  a  more  generous  meal ;  pray  don't  tell  them 


330  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

SO,  but  make  the  best  of  it,  as  you  know  very  well  how 
to  do." 

"ril  try  my  best,  Miss  Hale,  but  I'm  no  less  disap- 
pointed, for  some  of  'era,  being  no  better  than  children, 
have  been  living  on  the  thoughts  of  it  for  a  week,  and  it 
comes  hard  to  give  it  up." 

If  Ben  had  been  an  old-time  patriarch,  and  the  thirty 
boys  his  sons,  he  could  not  have  spoken  with  a  more 
paternal  regret,  or  gone  to  work  Avith  a  better  will.  Put- 
ting several  small  tables  together  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  he  left  Miss  Hale  to  make  a  judicious  display  of 
plates,  knives  and  forks,  while  he  departed  for  the  ban- 
quet. Presently  he  returned,  bearing  the  youthful  tur- 
keys and  the  vegetables  in  his  tray,  followed  by  Barney, 
looking  unutterable  things  at  a  plum-pudding  baked  in  a 
milk-pan,  and  six  very  small  pies.  Miss  Hale  played  a 
lively  tattoo  as  the  procession  approached,  and,  Avhen  the 
viands  were  arranged,  with  the  red  and  yellow  fruit  pret- 
tily heaped  up  in  the  middle,  it  really  did  look  like  a 
dinner. 

"  Here's  richness  !  here's  the  delicacies  of  the  season 
and  the  comforts  of  life  ! "  said  Ben,  falling  back  to  sur- 
vey the  table  Avith  as  much  apparent  satisfaction  as  if  it 
had  been  a  lord  mayor's  feast. 

"  Come,  hurry  up,  and  give  us  our  dinner,  Avhat  there 
is  of  it !  "  grumbled  Sam. 

"Boys,"  continued  Ben,  beginning  to  cut  up  the  tur- 
keys, "  these  noble  birds  have  been  sacrificed  lor  the 
defenders  of  their  country ;  they  Avill  go  as  far  as  ever 
they  can,  and,  when  they  can't  go  any  farther,  we  shall 
endeavor  to  supply  their  deficiencies  with  soup  or  ham, 
oysters  having  given  out  unexpectedly.     Put  it  to  vote  ; 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  33 1 

both  have  been  provided  on  this  joyful  occasion,  and  a 
word  will  fetch  either." 

"  Ham  !  ham  !  "  resounded  from  all  sides.  Soup  was 
an  every-day  affair,  and  therefore  repudiated  with  scorn  ; 
but  ham,  being  a  rarity,  was  accepted  as  a  proper  reward 
of  merit  and  a  tacit  acknowledgment  of  their  wrongs. 

The  "  noble  birds  "  did  go  as  far  as  possible,  and  Avere 
handsomely  assisted  by  their  fellow  martyr.  The  pudding 
was  not  as  plummy  as  could  have  been  desired,  but  a 
slight  exertion  of  fancy  made  the  crusty  knobs  do  duty 
for  raisins.  The  pies  were  small,  yet  a  laugh  added 
flavor  to  the  mouthful  apiece,  for,  when  Miss  Hale  asked 
Ben  to  cut  them  up,  that  individual  regarded  her  with  an 
inquiring  aspect  as  he  said,  in  his  drollest  tone,  — 

''  I  wouldn't  wish  to  appear  stupid,  ma'am,  but,  when 
you  mention  '  pies,'  I  presume  you  allude  to  tliese  trifles. 
'  Tarts,'  or  '  patties,'  would  meet  my  views  better,  in 
speaking  of  the  third  course  of  this  lavish  dinner.  As 
such  I  will  do  my  duty  by  'em,  hoping  that  the  appetites 
is  to  match." 

Carefully  dividing  the  six  pies  into  twenty-nine  dimin- 
utive wedges,  he  placed  each  in  the  middle  of  a  large 
clean  plate,  and  handed  them  about  with  the  gravity  of 
an  undertaker.  Dinner  had  restored  good  humor  to 
many ;  this  hit  at  the  pies  put  the  finishing  touch  to  it, 
and  from  that  moment  an  atmosphere  of  jollity  prevailed. 
Healths  were  drunk  in  currant  wine,  apples  and  oranges 
flew  about  as  an  impromptu  game  of  ball  was  got  up,  Miss 
Hale  sang  a  Christmas  carol,  and  Ben  gambolled  like  a 
sportive  giant  as  he  cleared  away.  Pausing  in  one  of 
his  prances  to  and  fro,  he  beckoned  the  nurse  out,  and, 
when  she  followed,  handed  her  a  plate  heaped  up  with 


332  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

good  things  from  a  better  table   than  she   ever  sat  at 
now. 

"  From  the  matron,  ma'am.  Come  right  in  here  and 
eat  it  while  it's  hot ;  they  are  most  through  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  you'll  get  nothing  half  so  nice,"  said  Ben, 
leading  the  way  into  his  pantry  and  pointing  to  a  sunny 
window-seat. 

"  Are  you  sure  she  meant  it  for  me,  and  not  for  your- 
self, Ben?" 

"  Of  course  she  did  !  Why,  what  should  I  do  with  it, 
when  I've  just  been  feastin'  sumptuous  in  this  very 
room  ?  " 

"  I  don't  exactly  see  what  you  have  been  feasting  on," 
said  Miss  Hale,  glancing  round  the  tidy  pantry  as  she  sat 
down. 

"  Havin'  eat  up  the  food  and  washed  up  the  dishes,  it 
naturally  follows  that  you  don't  see,  ma'am.  But  if  I  go 
oiF  in  a  fit  by-and-by  you'll  know  what  it's  owin'  to," 
answered  Ben,  vainly  endeavoring  to  look  like  a  man 
suffering  from  repletion. 

"  Such  kind  fibs  are  not  set  down  against  one,  Ben,  so 
I  will  eat  your  dinner,  for  if  I  don't  I  know  you  will 
throw  it  out  of  the  window  to  prove  that  you  can't 
eat  it." 

"  Thankee  ma'am,  I'm  afraid  I  should ;  for,  at  the 
rate  he's  going  on,  Barney  wouldn't  be  equal  to  it,"  said 
Ben,  looking  very  much  relieved,  as  he  polished  his  last 
pewter  fork  and  hung  his  towels  up  to  dry. 

A  pretty  general  siesta  followed  the  excitement  of  din- 
ner, but  by  three  o'clock  the  public  mind  was  ready  for 
amusement,  and  the  arrival  of  Sam's  box  provided  it. 
He  was  asleep  wlien  it  was  brought  in  and  quietly  depos- 


A   HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  333 

itcd  at  his  bed's  foot,  ready  to  surprise  him  on  awaking. 
The  advent  of  a  box  was  a  great  event,  for  the  fortunate 
receiver  seldom  failed  to  "  stand  treat,"  and  next  best  to 
getting  things  from  one's  own  home  was  the  getting  them 
from  some  other  boy's  home.  This  was  an  unusually 
large  box,  and  all  felt  impatient  to  have  it  opened,  thougii 
Sam's  exceeding  crustiness  prevented  the  indulgence  of 
great  expectations.  Presently  he  roused,  and  the  first 
thing  his  eye  fell  upon  was  the  box,  with  his  own  name 
sprawling  over  it  in  big  black  letters.  As  if  it  w^ere 
merely  the  continuance  of  his  dream,  he  stared  stupidly 
at  it  for  a  moment,  then  rubbed  his  eyes  and  sat  up,  ex- 
claiming, — 
>"  Hullo  !  that's  mine  !  " 

"Ah!  who  said  it  wouldn't  come?  who  hadn't  the 
faith  of  a  grasshopper  ?  and  Avho  don't  half  deserve  it  for 
being  a  Barker  by  nater  as  by  name  ?  "  cried  Ben,  em- 
phasizing each  question  with  a  bang  on  the  box,  as  he 
waited,  hammer  in  hand,  for  the  arrival  of  the  ward- 
master,  whose  duty  it  was  to  oversee  the  opening  of  such 
matters,  lest  contraband  articles  should  do  mischief  to 
the  owner  or  his  neighbors. 

"Ain't  it  a  jolly  big  one?  Knock  it  open,  and  don't 
wait  for  anybody  or  anything  !  "  cried  Sam,  tumbling  off 
his  bed  and  beating  impatiently  on  the  lid  with  his  one 
hand. 

In  came  the  ward-master,  off  came  the  cover,  and  out 
came  a  motley  collection  of  apples,  socks,  dough-nuts, 
paper,  pickles,  photographs,  pocket-handkerchiefs,  gin- 
gerbread, letters,  jelly,  newspapers,  tobacco,  and  cologne. 
"All  right,  glad  it's  come,  —  don't  kill  yourself,"  said  the 
ward-master,  as  he  took  a  hasty  survey  and  walked  off 


334  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

again.  Drawing  the  box  nearer  the  bed,  Ben  delicately 
folloAved,  and  Sam  was  left  to  brood  over  his  treasures  in 
peace. 

At  first  all  the  others,  following  Ben's  example,  made 
elaborate  pretences  of  going  to  sleep,  being  absorbed  in 
books,  or  utterly  uninterested  in  the  outer  world.  But 
very  soon  curiosity  got  the  better  of  politeness,  and  one 
by  one  they  all  turned  round  and  stared.  They  might 
have  done  so  from  the  first,  for  Sam  was  perfectly  uncon- 
scious of  everything  but  his  own  aiFairs,  and,  having  read 
the  letters,  looked  at  the  pictures,  unfolded  the  bundles, 
turned  everything  inside  out  and  upside  down,  tasted  all 
the  eatables  and  made  a  spectacle  of  himself  Avith  jelly, 
he  paused  to  get  his  breath  and  find  his  way  out  of  the 
confusion  he  had  created.     Presently  he  called  out, — 

"  Miss  Hale,  will  you  come  and  right  up  my  duds  for 
me?"  adding,  as  her  woman's  hands  began  to  bring 
matters  straight,  "  I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  'em  all, 
for  some  won't  keep  long,  and  it  will  take  pretty  steady 
eating  to  get  through  'em  in  time,  supposin'  appetite 
holds  out." 

"  How  do  the  others  manage  with  their  things?" 

"  You  know  they  give 'em  away;  but  I'll  be  hanged 
if  I  do,  for  they  are  always  callin'  names  and  pokin'  fun 
at  me.     Guess  they  won't  get  anything  out  of  me  noAv." 

The  old  morose  look  came  back  as  he  spoke,  for  it  had 
disappeared  while  reading  the  home  letters,  touching  the 
home  gifts.  Still  busily  folding  and  arranging,  Miss 
Hale  asked,  — 

"  You  know  the  story  of  the  Three  Cakes  ;  which  are 
you  going  to  be  —  Harry,  Peter,  or  Billy?  " 

Sam  began  to  laugh  at  this  sudden  application  of  the 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  335 

nursery  legend ;  and,  seeing  her  advantage,  Miss  Hale 
pursued  it  : 

"  We  all  know  how  much  you  have  suffered,  and  all 
respect  you  for  the  courage  with  which  you  have  borne 
your  long  confinement  and  your  loss  ;  but  don't  you  think 
you  have  given  the  boys  some  cause  for  making  fun  of 
you,  as  you  say?  You  used  to  be  a  favorite,  and  can  be 
aL^iin,  if  you  will  only  put  off  these  crusty  ways,  which 
will  grow  upon  you  faster  than  you  think.  Better  lose 
both  arms  than  cheerfulness  and  self-control,  vSam." 

Pausing  to  see  how  her  little  lecture  was  received,  she 
saw  that  Sam's  better  self  was  waking  up,  and  added  yet 
another  word,  hoping  to  help  a  mental  ailment  as  she 
had  done  so  many  physical  ones.  Looking  up  at  him 
with  her  kind  eyes,  she  said,  in  a  lowered  voice,  — 

"  This  day,  on  which  the  most  perfect  life  began,  is  a 
good  day  for  all  of  us  to  set  about  making  ourselves 
readier  to  follow  that  divine  example.  Troubles  are 
helpers  if  wo  take  them  kindly,  and  the  bitterest  may 
sweeten  us  for  all  our  lives.  Believe  and  try  this,  vSam, 
and  when  you  go  away  from  us  let  those  who  love  you 
find  that  two  battles  have  been  fought,  two  victories 
won." 

Sam  made  no  answer,  but  sat  thoughtfully  picking  at 
the  half-eaten  cookey  in  his  hand.  Presently  he  stole  a 
glance  about  the  room,  and,  as  if  all  helps  were  waiting 
for  him,  his  eye  met  Joe's.  From  his  solitary  corner  by 
the  fire  and  the  bed  he  would  seldom  leave  again  until  he 
went  into  his  grave,  the  boy  smiled  back  at  him  so 
heartily,  so  happily,  that  something  gushed  warm  across 
Sam's  heart  as  he  looked  do\vn  upon  the  faces  of  mother, 
sister,  sweetheart,  scattered  round  him,  and  remembered 


33^  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

how  poor  his  comrade  was  in  all  such  tender  ties, 
and  yet  how  rich  in  that  beautiful  content,  which,  "  hav- 
ing nothing,  yet  hath  all."  The  man  had  no  words  in 
which  to  express  this  feeling,  but  it  came  to  him  and  did 
him  good,  as  he  proved  in  his  own  way.  "  Miss  Hale," 
he  said,  a  little  awkwardly,  "  I  wish  you'd  pick  out  what 
you  think  each  would  like,  and  give  'em  to  the  boys." 

He  got  a  smile  in  answer  that  drove  him  to  his  cookey 
as  a  refuge,  for  his  lips  would  tremble,  and  he  felt  half 
proud,  half  ashamed  to  have  earned  such  bright  approval. 

"Let  Ben  help  you,  —  he  knows  better  than  I.  But 
you  must  give  them  all  yourself,  it  will  so  surprise  and 
please  the  boys ;  and  then  to-morrow  we  will  write  a 
capital  letter  home,  telling  what  a  jubilee  we  made  over 
their  fine  box." 

At  this  proposal  Sam  half  repented ;  but,  as  Ben  came 
lumbering  up  at  Miss  Hale's  summons,  he  laid  hold  of 
his  new  resolution  as  if  it  was  a  sort  of  shower-bath  and 
he  held  the  string,  one  pull  of  which  would  finish  the 
baptism.  Dividing  his  most  cherished  possession,  which 
(alas  for  romance!)  was  the  tobacco,  he  bundled  the 
larger  half  into  a  paper,  whispering  to  Miss  Hale,  — 

"  Ben  ain't  exactly  what  you'd  call  a  miuisterin'  angel 
to  look  at,  but  he  is  amazin'  near  one  in  his  ways,  so  I'm 
goin'  to  begin  with  him." 

Up  came  the  "  ministering  angel,"  in  red  flannel  and 
cow-hide  boots  ;  and  Sam  tucked  the  little  parcel  into  his 
pocket,  saying,  as  he  began  to  rummage  violently  in 
the  box, — 

"  Now  jest  hold  your  tongue,  and  lend  a  hand  here 
about  these  things." 

Ben  was  so  taken  aback  by  this  proceeding  that  he 


A   HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  337 

Stared  blankly,  till  a  look  from  Miss  Hale  enlightened 
him ;  and,  taking  his  cue,  he  played  his  part  as  well  as 
could  be  expected  on  so  short  a  notice.  Clapping  Sam 
on  the  shoulder, — not  the  bad  one,  Ben  was  always 
thoughtful  of  those  things,  —  he  exclaimed  heartily, — 

''  I  always  said  you'd  come  round  when  this  poor  arm 
of  yours  got  a  good  start,  and  here  you  are  jollier'n  ever. 
Lend  a  hand  !  so  I  will,  a  pair  of  'em.  What's  to  do  ? 
Pack  these  traps  up  again  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  want  you  to  tell  what  yoiCd  do  with  'em  if 
they  were  yours.  Free,  you  know,  —  as  free  as  if  they 
really  was." 

Ben  held  on  to  the  box  a  minute  as  if  this  second  sur- 
prise rather  took  him  oif  his  legs  ;  but  another  look  from 
the  prime  mover  in  this  resolution  steadied  him,  and  he 
fell  to  work  as  if  Sam  had  been  in  the  habit  of  being 
"  free." 

"  Well,  let's  see.  I  think  I'd  put  the  clothes  and  sich 
into  this  smaller  box  that  the  bottles  come  in,  and  stan' 
it  under  the  table,  handy.  Here's  newspapers  —  pictures 
in  'em,  too  !  I  should  make  a  circulatin'  lib'ry  of  them ; 
they'll  be  a  real  treat.  Pickles  —  well,  I  guess  I  should 
keep  them  on  the  winder  here  as  a  kind  of  a  relish  dinner- 
times,  or  to  pass  along  to  them  as  longs  for  'em.  Cologne 
—  that's  a  dreadful  handsome  bottle,  ain't  it?  That,  now, 
would  be  fust-rate  to  give  away  to  somebody  as  Avas  very 
fond  of  it,  —  a  kind  of  a  delicate  attention,  you  know,  — 
if  you  happen  to  meet  such  a  person  anywheres." 

Ben  nodded  towards  Miss  Hale,  who  was  absorbed  in 
folding  pocket-handkerchiefs.  Sam  winked  expressively, 
and  patted  the  bottle  as  if  congratulating  himself  that  it 
was  handsome,  and  that  he  did  know  what  to  do  with  it. 

22 


33S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

The  pantomime  was  not  elegant,  but  as  mueli  real  affec- 
tion and  respect  went  into  it  as  if  he  had  made  a  set 
speech,  and  presented  the  gift  upon  his  knees. 

"The  letters  and  photogi'aphs  I  should  probably  keep 
under  my  piller  for  a  spell ;  the  jelly  I'd  give  to  Miss 
Hale,  to  use  for  the  sick  ones ;  the  cake-stuff  and  that 
pot  of  jam,  that's  gettin'  ready  to  Avork,  I'd  stand  treat 
with  for  tea,  as  dinner  wasn't  all  we  could  have  wished. 
The  apples  I'd  keep  to  eat,  and  fling  at  Joe  Avlien  he  was 
too  bashful  to  ask  for  one,  and  the  tohaccer  I  would  not  go 
lavishin'  on  folks  that  have  no  business  to  be  enjoyin* 
luxuries  when  many  a  poor  feller  is  dyin'  of  want  down 
to  Charlestown.  There,  sir !  that's  what  I'd  do  if  any 
one  was  so  clever  as  to  send  me  a  jolly  box  like  this." 

Sam  was  enjoying  the  full  glow  of  his  shower-bath  by 
this  time.  As  Ben  designated  the  various  articles,  he  set 
them  apart ;  and  when  the  inventory  ended,  he  marched 
away  with  the  first  instalment :  two  of  the  biggest,  rosiest 
apples  for  Joe,  and  all  the  pictorial  papers.  Pickles  are 
not  usually  regarded  as  tokens  of  regard,  but  as  Sam 
dealt  them  out  one  at  a  time,  —  for  he  would  let  nobody 
help  him,  and  his  single  hand  being  the  left,  was  as 
awkward  as  it  was  willing,  —  the  boys'  faces  brightened  ; 
for  a  friendly  word  accompanied  each,  which  made  the 
sour  gherkins  as  welcome  as  sweetmeats.  With  every 
trip  the  donor's  spirits  rose  ;  for  Ben  circulated  freely 
between  whiles,  and,  thanks  to  him,  not  an  allusion  to 
the  past  marred  the  satisfaction  of  the  present.  Jam, 
soda-biscuits,  and  cake,  were  such  welcome  additions  to 
the  usual  bill  of  fare,  that  when  supper  was  over  a  vote 
of  thanks  was  passed,  and  speeches  were  made  ;  for, 
being  true  Americans,  the  ruling  passion  found  vent  in 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  339 

the  usual  "  Fellow-citizens  !  "  and  allusions  to  the  "  Star- 
spangled  Banner."  After  which  Sam  subsided,  feeling 
himself  a  public  benefactor,  and  a  man  of  mark. 

A  perfectly  easy,  pleasant  day  throughout  would  be 
ahiiost  an  impossibility  in  any  hospital,  and  this  one  was 
no  exception  to  the  general  rule ;  for,  at  the  usual  time, 
Dr.  Bangs  went  his  rounds,  leaving  the  customary  amount 
of  discomfort,  discontent  and  dismay  behind  him.  A 
skilful  surgeon  and  an  excellent  man  was  Dr.  Bangs,  but 
not  a  sanguine  or  conciliatory  individual ;  many  cares 
and  crosses  caused  him  to  reorard  the  world  as  one  laro-e 
hospital,  and  his  fellow-beings  all  more  or  less  danger- 
ously wounded  patients  in  it.  He  saw  life  through  the 
bluest  of  blue  spectacles,  and  seemed  to  think  that  the 
sooner  people  quitted  it  the  happier  for  them.  He  did 
his  duty  by  the  men,  but  if  they  recovered  he  looked 
half  disappointed,  and  congratulated  them  with  cheerful 
prophecies  that  there  would  come  a  time  when  they 
would  wish  they  hadn't.  If  one  died  he  seemed  relieved, 
and  surveyed  him  with  pensive  satisfaction,  saying 
heartily,  — 

"  He's  comfortable,  now,  poor  soul,  and  well  out  of 
this  miserable  world,  thank  God  !  " 

But  for  Ben  the  sanitary  influences  of  the  doctor's 
ward  would  have  been  small,  and  Dante's  doleful  line 
might  have  been  written  on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  — 

"Who  enters  here  leaves  hope  behind." 

Ben  and  the  doctor  perfectly  understood  and  liked  each 
other,  but  never  agreed,  and  always  skirmished  over  the 
boys  as  if  manful  cheerfulness  and  medical  despair  were 
fighting  for  the  soul  and  body  of  each  one. 


340  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"Well,"  began  the  doctor,  looking  at  Sam's  arm,  or, 
rather,  all  that  Avas  left  of  that  member  after  two  ampu- 
tations, "  we  shall  be  ready  for  another  turn  at  this  in  a 
day  or  two  if  it  don't  mend  faster.  Tetanus  sometimes 
follows  such  cases,  but  that  is  soon  over,  and  I  should 
not  object  to  a  case  of  it,  by  way  of  variety."  Sam's 
hopeful  face  fell,  and  he  set  his  teeth  as  if  the  fatal 
symptoms  were  already  felt. 

"  If  one  kind  of  lockjaw  was  more  prevailing  than 
'tis,  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  thing  for  some  folks  I  could 
mention,"  observed  Ben,  covering  the  well-healed  stump 
as  carefully  as  if  it  were  a  sleeping  baby ;  adding,  as  the 
doctor  walked  away,  "There's  a  sanguinary  old  saw- 
bones for  you  !  Why,  bless  your  buttons,  Sam,  you  are 
doing  splendid,  and  he  goes  on  that  way  because  there's 
no  chance  of  his  having  another  cut  at  you  !  Now  he's 
squenchin'  Turner,  jest  as  we've  blowed  a  spark  of  spirit 
into  him.  If  ever  there  was  a  born  extinguisher  its 
Bangs!" 

Ben  rushed  to  the  rescue,  and  not  a  minute  too  soon ; 
for  Turner,  who  now  labored  under  the  delusion  that  his 
recovery  depended  solely  upon  his  getting  out  of  bed 
every  fifteen  minutes,  was  sitting  by  the  fire,  looking  up 
at  the  doctor,  who  pleasantly  observed,  while  feeling  his 
pulse,  — 

"  So  you  are  getting  ready  for  another  fever,  are  you? 
Well,  we've  grown  rather  fond  of  you,  and  will  keep  you 
six  weeks  longer  if  you  have  set  your  heart  on  it." 

Turner  looked  nervous,  for  the  doctor's  jokes  were 
always  grim  ones ;  but  Ben  took  the  other  hand  in  his, 
and  gently  rocked  the  chair  as  he  replied,  with  great 
politeness,  — 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  34 1 

"  This  robust  convalesceut  of  ourn  Avould  be  happy  to 
oblige  you,  sir,  but  he  has  a  pressin'  engagement  up  to 
Jersey  for  next  week,  and  couldn't  stop  on  no  account. 
You  see  Miss  Turner  wants  a  careful  nuss  for  little 
Georgic,  and  he's  a  goin'  to  take  the  place." 

Feeling  himself  on  the  brink  of  a  laugh  as  Turner  sim- 
pered with  a  ludicrous  mixture  of  pride  in  his  baby  and 
fear  for  himself,  Dr.  Bangs  said,  with  unusual  sternness 
and  a  glance  at  Ben,  — 

"  You  take  the  responsibility  of  this  step  upon  your- 
self, do  you  ?  Very  well ;  then  I  wash  my  hands  of 
Turner ;  only,  if  that  bed  is  empty  in  a  week,  don't  lay 
the  blame  of  it  at  my  door." 

"  Nothing  shall  induce  me  to  do  it,  sir,"  briskly  re- 
sponded Ben.  "  Now  then,  turn  in  my  boy,  and  sleep  your 
prettiest,  for  I  wouldn't  but  disappoint  that  cheerfulest  of 
men  for  a  month's  wages ;  and  that's  liberal,  as  I  ain't 
likely  to  get  it." 

"  How  is  this  young  man  after  the  rash  dissipations  of 
the  day  ? "  asked  the  doctor,  pausing  at  the  bed  in  the 
corner,  after  he  had  made  a  lively  progress  do^vn  the 
room,  hotly  followed  by  Ben. 

"  I'm  first-rate,  sir,"  panted  Joe,  who  always  said  so, 
though  each  day  found  him  feebler  than  the  last.  Every 
one  was  kind  to  Joe,  even  the  gruff  doctor,  whose  man- 
ner softened,  and  who  w^as  forced  to  frown  heavily  to 
hide  the  pity  in  his  eyes 

"  How's  the  cough  ?  " 

"  Better,  sir  ;  being  weaker,  I  can't  fight  against  it  as 
I  used  to  do,  so  it  comes  rather  easier." 

"  Sleep  any  last  night?" 

"  Not  much  ;  but  it's  very  pleasant  laying  here  when 


342  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

tlie  room  is  still,  aud  no  light  but  the  fire.  Ben  keeps  it 
bright ;  and,  when  I  fret,  he  talks  to  me,  and  makes  the 
time  go  telling  stories  till  he  gets  so  sleepy  he  can  hardly 
speak.  Dear  old  Ben !  I  hope  he'll  have  some  one  as 
kind  to  him,  when  he  needs  it  as  I  do  now." 

"  He  will  get  what  he  deserves  by-and-by,  you  may 
be  sure  of  that,"  said  the  doctor,  as  severely  as  if  Ben 
merited  eternal  condemnation. 

A  great  drop  splashed  down  upon  the  hearth  as  Joe 
spoke  ;  but  Ben  put  his  foot  on  it,  and  turned  about  as 
if  defying  any  one  to  say  he  shed  it. 

"  Of  all  the  perverse  and  reckless  Avomen  whom  I  have 
known  in  the  course  of  a  forty  years'  practice,  this  one 
is  the  most  perverse  and  reckless,"  said  the  doctor, 
abruptly  addressing  Miss  Hale,  who  just  then  appeared, 
bringing  Joe's  "posy-basket"  back.  "  You  will  oblige 
me,  ma'am,  by  sitting  in  this  chair  with  your  hands  folded 
for  twenty  minutes  ;  the  clock  will  then  strike  nine,  and 
you  will  go  straight  up  to  your  bed." 

Miss  Hale  demurely  sat  down,  and  the  doctor  ponder- 
ously departed,  sighing  regretfully  as  he  went  through 
the  room,  as  if  disappointed  that  the  whole  thirty  were 
not  lying  at  death's  door ;  but  on  the  threshold  he  turned 
about,  exclaimed  "  Good-night,  boys  !  God  bless  you  ! " 
and  vanished  as  precipitately  as  if  a  trap-door  had  swal- 
lowed him  up. 

Miss  Hale  Avas  a  perverse  woman  in  some  things  ;  for, 
instead  of  folding  her  tired  hands,  she  took  a  rusty-cov- 
ered volume  from  the  mantle-piece,  and,  sitting  by  Joe's 
bed,  began  to  read  aloud.  One  by  one  all  other  sounds 
grew  still ;  one  by  one  the  men  composed  themselves  to 
listen  ;  and  one  by  one  the  words  of  the  sweet  old  Christ- 


A    HOSPITAL    CHRISTMAS.  343 

mas  story  can>e  to  them,  as  the  woman's  quiet  voice  went 
reading  on.  If  any  wounded  spirit  needed  balm,  if  any 
hungry  heart  asked  food,  if  any  upright  purpose,  new- 
born aspiration,  or  sincere  repentance  wavered  for  want 
of  human  strength,  all  found  help,  hope,  and  consolation 
in  the  beautiful  and  blessed  influences  of  the  book,  the 
reader,  and  the  hour. 

The  bells  rung  nine,  the  lights  grew  dim,  the  day's 
work  was  done  ;  but  Miss  Hale  lingered  beside  Joe's  bed, 
for  his  face  wore  a  wistful  look,  and  he  seemed  loath  to 
have  her  go. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  she  said;  "what  can  I  do  for 
you  before  I  leave  you  to  Ben's  care  ?  " 

He  drew  her  nearer,  and  whispered  earnestly,  — 

'•  It's  something  that  I  know  you'll  do  for  me,  because 
I  can't  do  it  for  myself,  not  as  I  want  it  done,  and  you 
can.  I'm  going  pretty  fast  now,  ma'am  ;  and  when  — 
when  some  one  else  is  laying  here,  I  want  you  to  tell  the 
boys,  — every  one,  from  Ben  to  Barney,  —  how  much  I 
thanked  'em,  how  much  I  loved  'em,  and  how  glad  I 
was  that  I  had  known  'em,  even  for  such  a  little  while." 

"  Yes,  Joe,  I'll  tell  them  all.  What  else  can  I  do, 
my  boy  ?  " 

"  Only  let  me  say  to  you  what  no  one  else  must  say  for 
me,  that  all  I  want  to  live  for  is  to  try  and  do  something 
in  my  poor  way  to  show  you  how  I  thank  you,  ma'am.  It 
isn't  what  you've  said  to  me,  it  isn't  what  you've  done 
for  me  alone,  that  makes  me  grateful ;  it's  because  you've 
learned  me  many  things  without  knowing  it,  showed  me 
what  I  ought  to  have  been  before,  if  I'd  had  any  one  to 
tell  me  how,  and  made  this  such  a  happy,  home-like 
place,  I  shall  be  sorry  when  T  have  to  go." 


344  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Poor  Joe  !  it  must  have  fared  hardly  with  him  all 
those  twenty  years,  if  a  hospital  seemed  home-like,  and 
a  little  sympathy,  a  little  care,  could  fill  him  with  such 
earnest  gratitude.  He  stopped  a  moment  to  lay  his  cheek 
upon  the  hand  he  held  in  both  of  his,  then  hurried  on  as 
if  he  felt  his  breath  beginning  to  give  out : 

"  I  dare  say  many  boys  have  said  this  to  you,  ma'am, 
better  than  I  can,  for  I  don't  say  half  I  feci;  but  I  know 
that  none  of  'em  ever  thanked  you  as  I  thank  you  in  my 
heart,  or  ever  loved  you  as  I'll  love  you  all  my  life. 
To-day  I  hadn't  anything  to  give  you,  I'm  so  poor ;  but 
I  wanted  to  tell  you  this,  on  the  last  Christmas  I  shall 
ever  see." 

It  was  a  very  humble  kiss  he  gave  that  hand  ;  but  the 
fervor  of  a  first  love  warmed  it,  and  the  sincerity  of  a 
great  gratitude  made  it  both  a  precious  and  pathetic  gift 
to  one  who,  half  unconsciously,  had  made  this  brief  and 
barren  life  so  rich  and  happy  at  its  close.  Always 
womanly  and  tender.  Miss  Hale's  face  was  doubly  so  as 
she  leaned  over  him,  whispering,  — 

"  I  have  had  my  present,  now.     Good-night,  Joe." 


AN     HOUR. 

THE  clock  struck  eleven. 
"Look  again,  Gabriel ;  is  there  no  light  coming?" 

"  Not  a  ray,  mother,  and  the  night  seems  to  darken 
every  instant. " 

"  Surely,  half  an  hour  is  time  enough  to  reach  the 
main  land  and  find  Dr.  Firth." 

"  Ample  time  ;  but  Alec  probably  found  the  doctor  ab- 
sent, and  is  waiting  for  him." 

"•  But  I  bade  the  boy  leave  my  message,  and  return  at 
once.     Every  moment  is  precious  ;  what  can  we  do?" 

"  Nothing  but  wait." 

Ai^  impatient  sigh  was  the  only  answer  vouchsafed  to 
the  unpalatable  advice,  and  silence  fell  again  upon  the 
anxious  watchers  in  the  room.  Still  leaning  in  the  deep 
recess  of  the  window,  the  young  man  looked  out  into  the 
murky  night,  listened  to  the  flow  of  the  great  river  rolling 
to  the  sea,  and  let  the  unquiet  current  of  his  thoughts 
drift  him  whithersoever  it  would.  His  imaginative  tem- 
perament found  a  sad  similitude  between  the  night  and 
his  own  mood,  for  neither  his  physical  nor  mental  eye 
could  see  what  lay  before  him,  and  in  his  life  there 
seemed  to  have  come  an  hour  as  full  of  suspense,  as 
prophetic  of  storm,  as  that  Mliicli  now  oppressed  the  earth 
and  lowered  in  the  sky. 

(345) 


34^  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

Every  instant  that  brought  the  peace  of  death  nearer 
to  the  father,  also  brought  the  cares  of  life  nearer  to  the 
son,  and  their  grim  aspect  daunted  him.  The  child  of  a 
Northern  mother,  bred  at  the  North  by  her  dying  desire, 
he  had  been  summoned  home  to  take  the  old  man's  place, 
and  receive  a  slave-cursed  inheritance  into  his  keeping. 
Had  he  stood  alone,  his  task  would  have  been  an  easy 
one  ;  for  an  upright  nature,  an  enthusiastic  spirit,  would 
have  found  more  sweetness  than  bitterness  in  a  sacrifice 
made  for  conscience  sake,  more  pride  than  pain  in  a  just 
deed  generously  performed.  But  a  step-mother  and  her 
daughters  were  dependent  on  him  now,  for  the  old  man's 
sudden  seizure  left  him  no  time  to  make  provision  for 
them  ;  and  the  son  found  a  double  burden  laid  upon  his 
shoulders  when  he  returned  to  what  for  years  had  been  a 
loveless  home  to  him.  To  reduce  three  delicately  nur- 
tured women  to  indigence  seemed  a  cruel  and  Quixotic 
act  to  others,  a  very  hard,  though  righteous  one  to  him  ; 
for  poverty  looked  less  terrible  than  affluence  founded 
upon  human  blood  and  tears.  He  had  resolved.to  set 
aside  all  private  ambitions  and  aspirations  that  he  might 
dedicate  his  life  to  his  kindred  ;  had  manfully  withstood 
their  ridicule  and  reproaches,  and  only  faltered  when,  in 
their  hour  of  bereavement,  they  appealed  to  him  with 
tears  and  prayers.  Then  pity  threatened  to  conquer 
principle,  for  Gabriel's  heart  was  as  gentle  as  it  was  gen- 
erous. Three  days  of  sorrowful  suspense  and  inward  strife 
had  passed ;  now  death  seemed  about  to  set  its  seal  upon 
one  life,  and  irresolution  to  mar  another,  for  Gabriel  still 
wavered  between  duty  and  desire,  crying  within  himself, 
"  Lord,  help  me  !  I  see  the  right,  but  I  am  not  strong 
enough  to  do  it ;  let  it  be  decided  for  me." 


AN    HOUR.  347 

It  ^Ya3  —suddenly,  entirely,  and  forever  ! 
The  tinkle  of  a  bell  roused  him  from  his  moody  reverie, 
and,  without  quitting  the  shadow  of  the  half-drawn  cur- 
tain, he  watched  the  scene  before  him  with  the  interest 
of  one  in  whom  both  soul  and  sense  were  alert  to  inter- 
pret and  accept  the  divine  decree  which  he  had  asked,  m 
whatever  guise  it  came. 

The  bell  summoned  a  person  whose  entrance  seemed 
to  bring  warmth,  vitality  and  light  into  that  gloomy  room, 
aUhough  she  was  only  a  servant,  with  the  blood  of  a 
despised  race  in  her  veins.     More  beautiful  than  either 
of  her  young  mistresses,  she  looked  like  some  brilliant 
flower  of  the  tropics  beside  two  pale  exotics,   and  the 
unavoidable  consciousness  of  this   showed  itself  in  the 
skill  with  which  she  made  her  simple  dress  a  foil  to  her 
beauty,  in  the  carriage  of  her  graceful  head  and  the  sad 
pride  of  her  eyes,  as  if,  being  denied  all  the  other  rights 
of  womanhood,  the  slave  clung  to  and  cherished  the  one 
possession  which  those  happier  women  lacked.     As  she 
entered,  noiselessly,  she  gave  one  keen,  comprehensive 
glance  about  the  room,  —  a  glance  that  took  in  the  gray 
head  and  pallid  face  upon  the  pillow,  the  languid  lady 
sittmg  at  the  bedside,  the  young  sisters  spent  with  weep- 
ing and  watching,  half  asleep  in  either  corner  of  a  couch, 
and  the  man's  glove  that  lay  beside  a  brace  of  pistols  on 
a  distant  table.     Then  her  eyes  fell,  all  expression  faded 
from  her  face,  and  she  stood  before  her  mistress  with  a 
meek  air,  curiously  at  variance  with  the  animated  aspect 
she  had  worn  on  entering. 

"  Milly,  are  you  sure  you  gave  Alec  my  message  cor- 
rectly? "  asked  Mrs.  Butler,  imperiously,  with  a  look  of 
unconcealed  dislike. 


34^  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

"  Yes,  missis,  I  gave  it  word  for  word." 

The  voice  that  answered  would  have  gone  straight  to  a 
stranger's  heart  and  made  it  ache,  for  a  world  of  hope- 
less patience  rendered  its  music  pathetic,  and  dignified  the 
little  speech,  as  if  the  woman's  spirit  uttered  a  protest  in 
every  word  that  passed  her  lips. 

"  He  has  been  gone  nearly  an  hour.  I  can  wait  no 
longer.    Tell  Andy  to  go  at  once  and  see  what  keeps  him." 

"Andy's  down  at  the  landing,  seeing  to  the  boats 
before  the  storm,  missis." 

"  Let  Tony  do  that,  and  send  Andy  off  at  once." 

"  Tony's  too  cut  up  with  his  last  whipping  to  stir." 

"  How  very  tiresome  !     Where  is  overseer  Neal?" 

"  Sick,  missis." 

"  Sick !  I  saw  him  two  hours  ago,  and  he  was  per- 
fectly well  then." 

"  He  was  taken  very  suddenly,  but  he'll  be  out  of 
pain  by  morning." 

As  Milly  spoke,  with  a  slight  motion  of  the  lips  that 
would  have  been  a  scornful  smile  had  she  not  checked  it,  a 
faint,  far-off  cry  came  on  the  wind  ;  a  cry  of  mortal  fear 
or  pain  it  seemed,  and  so  full  of  ominous  suggestion  that, 
though  inured  to  sounds  of  suffering,  Mrs.  Butler  invol- 
untarily exclaimed,  — 

"What  is  that?" 

"  It's  only  Rachel  screaming  for  her  baby ;  the  last 
thing  old  master  did  was  to  sell  it,  and  she's  been  crazy 
ever  since,"  answered  Milly,  with  a  peculiar  quickening 
of  the  breath  and  a  sidelong  glance. 

"  Foolish  creature  !  but  never  mind  her  now  :  tell  me 
who  is  about  that  I  can  send  for  Dr.  Firth." 

"  There's  no  one  in  the  house  but  blind  Sandra  and  me." 


AN    HOUR. 


349 


"What  do  you  mean?  Who  gave  the  people  leave 
to  go?" 

''I  did." 

Hitherto  the  girl  had  spoken  in  the  subdued  tone  of  a 
well-trained  servant,  though  there  was  no  trace  of  her 
race  in  her  speech  but  a  word  or  two  here  and  there  ;  for 
Milly's  beauty  had  secured  for  her  all  the  advantages 
which  would  increase  her  value  as  a  chattel.  But  in  the 
utterance  of  the  last  two  words  her  voice  rose  with  a 
sudden  ring  that  arrested  Mrs.  Butler's  attention,  and 
caused  her  to  glance  sharply  at  the  girl.  Milly  stood 
before  her  meek  and  motionless,  and  not  an  eyelash  stirred 
during  that  brief  scrutiny.  Her  mistress  could  not  see 
the  mingled  triumph  and  abhorrence  burning  in  those 
averted  eyes,  did  not  observe  the  close  clenching  of  the 
hand  that  hung  at  her  side,  nor  guess  what  a  sea  of  black 
and  bitter  memories  was  surging  in  her  comely  hand- 
maid's heart. 

"  How  dared  you  send  the  servants  away  without  my 
orders?"  demanded  Mrs.  Butler,  in  an  irritated  and  irri- 
tating voice. 

"  Master  Gabriel  said  the  house  must  be  kept  very 
quiet  on  old  master's  account ;  I  couldn't  make  the  T)oys 
mind,  so  I  sent  them  to  the  quarters." 

"  This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  presumed  upon 
my  son's  favor,  and  exceeded  my  orders.  You  have 
been  spoiled  by  indulgence,  but  that  shall  be  altered  soon." 

"  Yes,  missis,  —  it  shall ;  "  and  as  the  girl  added  the 
latter  words  below  her  breath,  there  was  a  glitter  as  of 
white  teeth  firmly  set  lest  some  impetuous  speech  should 
break  loose  in  spite  of  her.  Her  mistress  did  not  mark 
that   little   demonstration,    for    her   mind  was   occupied 


350  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

with  its  one  care,  as  she  said,  half  aloud,  half  to 
herself,  — 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  The  night  is  passing,  your  master 
needs  help,  and  Alec  has  evidently  forgotten,  or  never 
received,  ray  message." 

For  the  first  time  an  expression  of  anxiety  was  visible 
on  Milly's  face,  and  there  was  more  eagerness  than 
deference  in  her  suggestion  : 

"  Master  Gabriel  might  go  ;  it  Avould  save  time  and 
make  the  matter  sure,  as  missis  doubts  my  word." 

"  It  is  impossible  ;  his  father  might  rouse  and  ask  for 
him,  and  I  will  not  be  left  alone.  It  is  not  his  place  to 
carry  messages,  nor  yours  to  propose  it.  Quick  !  lift  your 
master's  head,  and  chafe  his  hands.     God  help  us  all !  " 

A  low  sigh  from  the  bed  caused  the  sudden  change 
from  displeasure  to  distress,  as  Mrs.  Butler  bent  over  her 
husband,  forgetful  of  all  else.  What  a  strange  smile 
flashed  across  Milly's  face,  and  kindled  the  dark  fire  of 
her  eyes,  as  she  looked  down  upon  the  master  and  mis- 
tress, whose  helplessness  and  gi'ief  touched  no  chord  of 
pity  or  sympathy  in  her  heart !  Only  an  instant  did  she 
stand  so,  but  in  that  instant  the  expression  of  her  face 
was  fully  revealed,  not  to  the  drowsy  sisters,  but  to 
Gabriel  in  his  covert.  -He  saw  it,  but  before  he  could 
fathom  its  significance  it  was  hidden  from  him  ;  and  when 
his  mother  looked  up  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  but 
the  handsome  head  bending  over  the  pale  hand  that  Milly 
was  assiduously  chafing.  Something  in  the  touch  of 
those  warm  palms  seemed  to  rouse  in  the  old  man  a 
momentary  flicker  of  memory  and  strength,  for  the  last 
thought  that  that  had  disturbed  his  failing  consciousness 
found  utterance  in  broken  words  : 


AN    HOUR.  351 

"I  promised  her  her  liberty,  —  she  shall  have  it ;  wait 
a  little,  Milly,  —  wait  till  I  am  better." 

"  Yes,  master,  I  can  wait  now ; "  and  the  girl's  eye 
turned  toward  the  clock  with  an  impatient  glance. 

The  old  man  did  not  hear  lier,  for,  with  an  incoherent 
murmur,  he  seemed  to  sink  into  a  deeper  lethargy  than 
before.  His  wife  believed  him  dying  ;  and  cried,  as  she 
wrung  her  hands  in  a  paroxysm'  of  despairing  help- 
lessness, — 

"  Look  out,  Milly,  look  out !  and  if  no  one  is  coming, 

run  to  the  quarters  and  send  off  the  first  boy  you  meet." 

.  Milly    moved   deliberately   toward    the    window,    but 

paused  half-way  to  ask,  with  the  same  shade  of  anxiety 

flitting  over  her  face,  — 

"  Where  is  Master  Gabriel  ?  shouldn't  he  be  called  ?  " 

"  He  was  here  a  moment  ago,  and  has  gone  to  the 
landing,  doubtless  ;  you  can  call  him  as  you  go." 

With  sudden  eagerness  the  girl  glided  to  the  window, 
now  too  intent  upon  some  purpose  of  her  own  to  see  the 
dark  outline  of  a  figure  half  concealed  in  the  deep  folds 
of  the  curtain ;  and,  leaning  far  out,  she  peered  into 
the  gloom  with  an  intentness  that  sharpened  every 
feature. 

''  There  is  no  one  coming,  missis,"  she  said,  raising 
her  voice  unnecessarily,  as  one  listener  thought,  unless 
the  momentary  stillness  made  any  sound  seem  unusually 
loud.  As  the  words  left  her  lips,  from  below  there  came 
a  soft  chirp  as  of  some  restless  bird  ;  it  was  twice  re- 
peated, then  came  a  pause,  and  in  it,  with  a  rapid,  noise- 
less gesture,  Milly  drew  a  handkerchief  from  her  pocket 
and  dropped  it  from  the  window.  It  fluttered  whitely 
for  a  moment,  and  as   it  disappeared  an  acute  ear  might 


352  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

liave  caught  the  sound  of  footsteps  stealing  stealthily 
away.  Milly  evidently 'heard  them,  for  an  expression  of 
relief  began  to  dawn  upon  her  face.  Suddenly  it  changed 
to  one  of  terror,  as,  in  the  act  of  withdrawing  her  arm, 
a  strong  hand  grasped  it,  and  Gabriel's  voice  demanded, — 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Milly?  " 

For  a  moment  she  stru^^o^led  like  some  wild  creature 
caught  in  a  net,  then  steadied  herself  by  a  desperate 
effort,  exclaiming,  breathlessly,  — 

"  Oh,  Master  Gabriel,  how  you  frightened  me  !" 

"  I  meant  to.  Now  tell  what  all  this  means,  at  once 
and  truly,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  intended  to  be  stern,  but 
which  was  only  serious  and  troubled. 

"All  what  means,  sir?"  she  answered,  feigning  inno- 
cent surprise,  though  her  eye  never  met  his,  and  she  still 
trembled  in  his  hold. 

"  You  know ;  the  signals,  the  dropping  of  the  hand- 
kerchief, the  steps  below  there,  and  the  figure  creeping 
through  the  grass." 

"  Master  must  have  quick  eyes  and  ears  to  see  and 
hear  all  that  in  such  a  minute.  I  only  saw  my  handker- 
chief drop  by  accident ;  I  only  heard  a  bird  chirp,  and 
one  of  the  dogs  creep  round  the  .house  ;  "  but  as  she 
spoke  she  cast  an  uneasy  glance  over  her  shoulder  into 
the  night  without. 

"  Why  lie  to  me,  Milly?  I  have  watched  you  ever 
since  you  came  in,  and  you  are  not  yourself  to-night. 
Something  is  wrong ;  I've  felt  it  all  day,  but  thought  it 
was  anxiety  for  my  poor  father.  Why  are  all  the  people 
sent  off  to  the  quarters  ?  Why  is  Andy  meddling  Avith 
the  boats  without  my  orders?  and  why  do  you  look, 
speak,  and  act  in  this  inexplicable  manner  ?  " 


AN    HOUR.  353 

"  If  master  gets  worried  and  imagines  mischief  when 
there  is  none,  I  can't  help  it,"  she  said,  doggedly. 

Both  while  speaking  and  listening  Gabriel  had  scruti- 
nized her  closely,  and  all  he  saw  confirmed  his  suspicion 
that  something  serious  was  amiss.  In  the  slender  wrist 
he  held  the  pulse  thrilled  quick  and  strong ;  he  heard  the 
rapid  beating  of  her  heart,  the  flutter  of  the  breath  upon 
her  lips  ;  saw  that  her  face  was  colorless,  her  eyes  both 
restless  and  elusive.  He  was  sure  that  no  transient  fear 
agitated  her,  but  felt  that  some  unwonted  excitement  pos- 
sessed her,  threatenening  to  break  out  in  spite  of  the 
self-control  which  years  of  servitude  had  taught  her. 
"What  he  had  just  seen  and  heard  alarmed  him ;  for  his 
father  had  been  a  hard  master,  the  island  was  governed 
by  fear  alone,  and  he  never  trod  the  dykes  that  bounded 
the  long,  low  rice-fields  without  feeling  as  if  he  Avalked 
upon  a  crater-crust  which  might  crack  and  spew  fire  any 
day.  Many  small  omens  of  evil  had  occurred  of 
late,  which  now  returned  to  his  recollection  with  sinister 
significance ;  and  the  vague  disquiet  that  had  haunted 
him  all  day  now  seemed  an  instinctive  premonition  of 
impending  danger.  Many  fears  flashed  through  his  mind, 
and  one  resolution  was  firmly  fixed.  His  face  grew  stern, 
his  voice  commanding,  and  his  hand  tightened  its  hold 
as  he  said,  — 

"  Speak,  Milly,  or  I  shall  be  tempted  to  use  my  author- 
ity as  a  master,  and  that  I  never  wish  to  do.  If  there 
is  any  deviltry  afloat  I  must  know  it ;  and  if  you  will  not 
tell  it  me  I  shall  search  the  island  till  I  find  it  for  myself." 

She  looked  at  him  for  the  first  time,  as  he  spoke,  with 
a  curious  blending  of  defiance  for  the  master  and  admi- 
ration for  the  man.  His  last  words  changed  it  to  one  of 
23 


354  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

fear ;  and  her  free  hand  was  extended  as  if  to  bar  his 
way,  while  she  said,  below  her  breath,  and  with  another 
glance  into  the  outer  gloom,  — 

"You  are  safe  here,  but  if  you  leave  the  house  it  will 
cost  you  your  life." 

"  Then  it  must ;  for  if  you  will  not  show  me  the  peril, 
I  swear  I'll  go  to  meet  it  blindly." 

"  No,  no,  Avait  a  little  ;  I  dare  not  tell !  " 

"  You  shall  tell.  I  am  the  mistress  here,  and  have 
borne  enough.  Speak,  girl,  at  once,  or  this  proud  spirit 
of  yours  shall  be  broken  till  you  do." 

Mrs.  Butler  had  heard  all  that  passed,  had  approached 
them,  and  being  a  woman  who  was  by  turns  imperious, 
peevish,  and  passionate,  she  yielded  to  the  latter  impulse 
as  she  spoke,  and  gave  the  girl's  shoulder  an  impatient 
shake,  as  if  to  force  the  truth  out  of  her.  The  touch, 
the  tone,  were  like  sparks  to  powder ;  for  the  smoulder- 
ing fire  blazed  up  as  Milly  flung  her  off,  wrenched  her- 
self free  from  Gabriel,  and  turned  on  his  mother  with  a 
look  that  sent  her  back  to  her  husband  trembling  and 
dismayed. 

"  Yes,  I  will  speak,  though  it  is  too  soon ! "  cried 
Milly,  with  a  short,  sharp  laugh.  "  They  may  kill  me 
for  telling  before  the  time  ;  I  can't  help  it ;  I  must  have 
one  hour  of  freedom,  if  I  die  the  next.  There  is  devil- 
try afloat  to-night,  and  it  is  yourselves  you  may  blame 
for  it.  We  can't  bear  anymore,  and  before  a  new  master 
comes  to  torment  us  like  the  old  one,  we've  determined 
to  try  for  Hberty,  though  there'll  be  bloody  work  before 
we  get  it.  The  boys  are  not  at  the  quarters,  but  fifty 
are  waiting  at  the  rice-mill  till  midnight,  and  then  they'll 
come  up  here  to  do  as  they've  been  done  by.     While 


AN    HOUR. 


355 


they  wait  they're  begianing  with  overseer  Neal ;  whip- 
•  ping,  burning,  torturing  him,  for  all  I  kuow,  as  other 
men,  and  women  too,  have  been  whipped,  burnt  and 
tortured  there.  That  was  his  scream  you  heard.  Alec 
never  went  for  the  doctor ;  Andy's  guarding  the  boats 
till  we  want  them ;  big  Mose  is  watching  round  the 
house  ;  the  alarm  bell's  down  ;  I've  cleared  the  house  of 
arms,  and  spoilt  the  pistols  that  I  dared  not  take  ;  Master 
Gabriel's  the  only  white  man  on  the  island,  and  there's 
no  help  for  you  unless  the  Lord  turns  against  us.  "Who 
is  the  mistress  now  ?  " 

The  girl  paused  there,  breathless  but  exultant,  for  the 
words  had  poured  from  her  lips  as  if  the  pent-up  degra- 
dation, wrath  and  wrong  of  nineteen  years  had  broken 
bounds  at  last  and  must  overflow,  even  though  they 
wrecked  her  by  their  vehemence.  Some  spirit  stronger 
than  herself  seemed  to  possess  and  speak  out  of  her, 
making  her  look  like  an  embodied  passion,  beautiful,  yet 
terrible,  as  she  glanced  from  face  to  face,  seeing  how  pale 
and  panic-stricken  each  became,  as  her  rapid  words  made 
visible  the  retribution  that  hung  over  them.  Gabriel 
stood  aghast  at  the  swift  and  awful  answer  given  to  his 
prayer ;  the  daughters  fled  to  their  mother's  arms  for 
shelter ;  the  wife  clung  to  her  husband  for  the  protection 
which  he  could  no  longer  give,  and,  as  if  dragged  back 
to  life  by  the  weight  of  a  woe,  such  as  he  had  himself 
inflicted  upon  others,  the  old  man  rose  up  in  his  bed, 
speechless,  helpless,  yet  conscious  of  the  dangers  of  the 
hour,  and  doubly  daunted  by  death's  terrors,  because  so 
powerless  to  succor  those  for  whom  he  had  periled  his 
own  soul.  A  bitter  cry  broke  from  him  as  his  last  look 
showed  him  the  impending  doom  which  all  his  impotent 


35^  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

remorse  could  not  avert,  and  in  that  cry  the  old  man's 
spirit  passed,  to  find  that,  even  for  such  as  he,  Infinite 
justice  was  tempered  by  Infinite  mercy. 

During  the  few  moments  in  Avhich  the  wife  and  daugh- 
ters forgot  fear  in  soitow,  and  the  son  took  hurried 
counsel  Avith  liimsclf  how  best  to  meet  the  coming 
danger,  Milly  was  learning  that  the  bitter  far  exceeds 
the  sweet  in  human  vengeance.  The  slave  exulted  in 
the  freedom  so  dearly  purchased,  but  the  woman  felt  that 
in  avenging  them  her  wrongs  had  lost  their  dignity,  and 
though  she  had  changed  places  with  her  mistress,  she 
found  that  power  did  not  bring  her  peace.  She  had  no 
skill  to  analyze  the  feeling,  no  words  in  Avhich  to  express 
it,  even  to  herself,  but  she  was  so  strongly  conscious  of 
it,  that  its  mysterious  power  marred  the  joy  she  thought 
to  feel,  and  forced  her  to  confess  that  in  the  hour  of 
expected  triumph  she  was  bafiled  and  defeated  by  her 
own  conscience.  With  women  doomed  to  a  fate  like 
hers,  the  higher  the  order  of  intelligence  the  deeper  the 
sense  of  degradation,  the  more  intense  the  yearning  for 
liberty  at  any  price.  Milly  had  always  rebelled  against 
her  lot,  although,  compared  with  that  of  her  class,  it  had 
not  been  a  hard  one  till  the  elder  Butler  bought  her,  that 
his  son,  seeing  slavery  in  such  a  lovely  form,  might  learn 
to  love  it.  But  Gabriel,  in  his  brief  visits,  soon  convinced 
his  father  that  no  temptation  could  undermine  his  sturdy 
Northern  sense  of  right  and  justice,  and  though  he  might 
easily  learn  to  love  the  beautiful  woman,  he  could  not 
learn  to  oppress  the  slave  whose  utter  helplessness  ap- 
pealed to  all  that  was  manliest  in  him. 

Milly  felt  this  deeply,  and  knew  that  the  few  black 
drops  in  her  veins  parted  herself  and  Gabriel  more  hope- 


AN    HOUR.  357 

lessly  than  the  widest  seas  that  ever  rolled  between  two 
lovers.  This  inexorable  fact  made  all  the  world  look 
dark  to  her;  life  became  a  burden,  and  one  purpose 
alone  sustained  her,  —  the  resolution  to  achieve  her  own 
liberty,  to  enjoy  a  brief  triumph  over  those  who  had 
Avronged  her,  then  to  die,  and  find  compensation  for  a 
hapless  human  love  in  the  fatherly  tenderness  of  a  Divine 
one.  She  had  prayed,  worked  and  waited  for  this  hour, 
with  all  the  ardor,  energy  and  patience  of  her  nature. 
Yet  when  it  came  she  was  not  satisfied ;  a  sense  of  guilt 
oppressed  her,  and  the  loss  seemed  greater  than  the  gain. 
Gabriel  had  given  her  a  look  which  wounded  more  deeply 
than  the  sharpest  reproach ;  and  the  know^ledge  that  she 
had  forfeited  the  confidence  he  had  always  shoAvn  her, 
now  made  her  gloomy  when  she  would  have  been  glad, 
humble  when  she  thought  to  have  been  proudest.  Ga- 
briel saw  and  understood  her  mood,  felt  that  their  only 
hope  of  deliverance  lay  in  her,  and  while  his  mother  and 
sisters  lamented  for  the  dead,  he  bestirred  himself  to 
save  the  living. 

"  Milly,"  he  began,  with  sad  seriousness,  "  we  deserve 
no  mercy,  and  I  ask  none  for  myself ;  I  only  implore  you 
to  spare  the  women  and  give  me  time  to  atone  for  the 
weak,  the  wicked  hesitation  which  has  brought  us  to  this 
pass.  I  meant  to  free  you  all  as  soon  as  you  were  legally 
mine,  as  it  was  too  late  for  my  father  to  endear  his  mem- 
ory by  one  just  act.  But  it  was  hard  to  make  my  mother 
and  ray  sisters  poor,  and  so  I  waited,  hoping  to  be  sho\\Ti 
some  way  by  which  I  could  be  just  and  generous  both  to 
you  and  them." 

"  Three  women  were  more  precious  than  two  hundred 
helpless  creatures  in  the  eyes  of  a  Christian  gentleman 


358  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

from  the  free  North  !  I'm  glad  you  told  me  this  ;  "  and 
there  was  something  like  contempt  in  the  look  she  gave 
her  master. 

There  was  no  answer  to  that,  for  it  was  true  ;  and  in 
the  remorseful  shame  that  sent  the  blood  to  Gabriel's 
forehead,  he  confessed  the  fact  which  he  was  too  honest 
to  deny.  Still  looking  at  her,  Avith  eyes  that  pleaded  for 
him  better  than  his  words,  he  said,  with  a  humility  that 
conquered  her  disdain,  — 

"  I  shall  expiate  that  sin  if  I  die  to-night ;  and  I  will 
give  myself  up  to  be  dealt  with  as  you  please,  if  you  will 
save  my  mother  and  my  sisters,  and  let  them  free  you  in 
my  name.  Before  God  and  my  dead  father  I  promise 
this,  upon  my  honor  !  " 

"  There  are  no  witnesses  to  that  but  those  whom  I'll 
not  trust ;  honor  means  nothing  to  us  who  are  not  allowed 
to  keep  our  o^vn,"  said  Milly,  looking  moodily  upon  the 
ground,  as  if  she  feared  to  look  up  lest  she  should 
relent,  for  excitement  was  ebbing  fast,  and  a  flood  of 
regretful  recollections  rising  in  her  heart. 

"I  did  not  expect  that  reproach  from  you,"  Gabriel 
answered,  taking  courage  from  the  signs  he  saw.  "Do 
you  remember,  when  my  father  gave  you  to  me,  how 
indignantly  I  rejected  the  gift,  and  promised  that  in  my 
eyes  you  should  be  as  sacred  as  either  of  those  poor 
girls?     Have  I  not  kept  my  word,  Milly?" 

"  Yes  !  O  yes ! "  she  said,  with  trembling  lips,  and 
eyes  she  dared  not  lift,  they  were  so  full  of  grateful  tears. 
Carefully  steadying  her  traitorous  voice,  she  added,  earn- 
estly, "  Master  Gabriel !  I  do  remember,  and  I've  tried 
all  day  to  save  you,  but  you  wouldn't  go.  I  will  trust 
your  word,  and  do  my  best  to  help  the  ladies,  if  they'll 


AN    HOUR.  359 

promise  to  free  us  all  to-morrow,  aud  you  will  leave  the 
island  at  ouce.  Mose  will  let  you  pass  ;  for  that  hand- 
kerchief was  dropped  to  tell  him  that  you  Avere  abroad, 
and  were  to  be  got  off  against  your  will,  if  you  wouldn't 
go  quietly.  Both  he  and  Andy  will  save  you  for  my 
sake  ;  the  others  won't,  because  they  don't  know  you  as 
we  do.     Please  go,  Master  Gabriel,  before  it  is  too  late." 

^'  No,  I  shall  stay.  What  would  you  think  of  me,  if  I 
deserted  these  helpless  women  in  such  danger,  to  save 
myself  at  their  expense?  I  cannot  quite  trust  you, 
Milly,  after  treachery  like  this." 

"  Who  taught  us  to  be  treacherous,  and  left  us  nothing 
but  our  own  cunning  to  help  ourselves  with  ?  " 

The  first  part  of  Gabriel's  speech  made  the  last  less 
hard  to  bear ;  and  Milly's  question  was  put  in  a  tone  that 
was  more  apologetic  than  accusatory,  for  Gabriel  cared 
what  she  thought  of  him,  and  that  speech  comforted  her. 

''  Not  I,  Milly  ;  but  let  the  sins  of  the  dead  rest,  and 
tell  me  if  you  will  not  help  my  mother  and  Grace  and 
Clara  off,  instead  of  me  ?  The  promise  will  be  all  the 
sooner  and  the  better  kept,  or,  if  it  comes  too  late,  I 
shall  be  the  only  and  the  fittest  person  to  pay  the 
penalty." 

Milly's  face  darkened,  and  she  turned  away  with  an 
expression  of  keen  disappomtment.  Mrs.  Butler  aud  her 
daughters  had  restrained  their  lamentations  to  listen  ;  but 
at  the  sound  of  Gabriel's  proposal,  the  sisters  ran  to 
Milly,  and,  clinging  about  her  knees,  implored  her  to 
pity,  forgive,  and  save  them.  Well  for  them  that  they 
did  so  ;  for  Milly  felt  as  if  many  degi-adations  were  can- 
celled by  that  act,  and,  as  she  saw  her  young  mistresses 
at  her  feet,  the  sense  of  power   soothed  her  sore  heart. 


360  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

and  added  the  grace  of  generosity  to  the  duty  of  forgive- 
ness. She  did  not  speak,  yet  she  did  not  deny  their 
prayer,  and  stood  wavering  between  doubt  and  desire  as 
the  fateful  moments  rapidly  flew  by  ;  Gabriel  remembered 
that,  and,  taking  her  hand,  said,  in  a  voice  whose  earnest- 
ness was  perilously  persuasive  to  the  poor  girl's  ear,  — 

"  Milly,  you  said  there  was  no  hope  for  us  unless  God 
turned  against  you.  I  think  He  has,  and,  speaking 
through  that  generous  heart  of  yours,  pleads  for  us  better 
than  we  can  plead  for  ourselves.  It  is  so  beautiful  to 
pity,  so  magnanimous  to  forgive  ;  and  the  greater  the 
wrong,  the  more  pardon  humbles  the  transgi-essor  and 
ennobles  the  bestower.  Dear  Milly,  spare  these  poor 
girls  as  you  have  been  spared  ;  prove  yourself  the  truer 
woman,  the  nobler  mistress  ;  teach  them  a  lesson  which 
they  never  can  forget,  and  sweeten  your  liberty  with  the 
memory  of  this  act.'" 

Milly  listened  still  with  downcast  eyes  and  averted 
face,  but  every  word  went  straight  to  her  heart,  soothing, 
strengthening,  inspiring  all  that  was  best  and  bravest  in 
that  poor  heart,  so  passionate,  and  yet  so  warm  and 
womanly  withal.  No  man  had  ever  spoken  to  her  before 
of  magnanimity,  of  proving  herself  superior  to  those 
who  had  shown  no  mercy  to  her  faults,  accorded  no 
praise  to  her  virtues,  nor  lightened  a  hard  servitude 
with  any  touch  of  friendliness.  No  man  had  ever  looked 
into  her  face  before  with  eyes  in  which  admiration  for 
her  beauty  was  mingled  with  pity  for  her  helpless  woman- 
hood ;  and,  better  than  all,  no  man,  old  or  young,  had 
ever  until  now  recognized  in  her  a  fellow-creature,  born 
to  the  same  rights,  gifted  with  the  same  powers,  and 
capable  of  the  same  sufferings  and  sacrifices  as  himself. 


AN    HOUR.  361 

That  touched  aud  won  her;  that  appealed  to  the  spirit 
which  lives  through  all  oppression  in  the  lowest  of  God's 
children  ;  and  througli  all  her  frame  there  went  a  glow 
of  wannth  and  joy,  as  if  some  strong,  kind  hand  had 
lifted  her  from  the  gloom  of  a  desokite  despair  into  the 
sunshine  of  a  happier  world.  Her  eye  wandered  toward 
the  faces  of  dead  master,  conquered  mistress,  and  dark- 
ened as  it  looked  ;  passed  to  the  pale  girls  still  clinging 
to  her  skirts,  and  softened  visibly  ;  was  lifted  to  Gabriel, 
and  kindled  with  the  new-born  desire  to  prove  herself 
worthy  of  the  confidence  which  would  be  her  best  re- 
ward. A  smile  broke  beautifully  across  her  face,  and 
her  lips  were  parted  to  reply,  when  Mrs.  Butler,  who 
sat  trembling  behind  her,  cried,  in  a  shrill,  imploring 
Avhisper,  — 

"Remember  all  I've  done  for  you,  Milly,  all  I  still 
have  it  in  my  power  to  do.  I  promise  to  free  you,  if  you 
will  only  save  us  now.  Be  merciful,  for  your  old 
master's  sake,  if  not  for  mine." 

The  sound  of  that  querulous  voice  seemed  to  sting 
Milly  like  a  lash,  threatening  to  undo  all  Gabriel's  work. 
Her  eye  grew  fiery  again,  her  mouth  hard,  her  face  bit- 
terly scornful,  as  she  said,  with  a  glance  which  her  mis- 
tress never  forgot,  — 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  forget  all  you've  done  for  me  ;  I 
would  not  accept  my  liberty  from  you  if  you  could  give 
it ;  and  if  a  word  of  mine  could  save  you,  I'd  not  say 
it  for  old  master's  sake,  much  less  for  yours." 

With  a  warning  gesture  to  his  mother,  Gabriel  turned 
that  defiant  face  toward  himself,  and  holding  it  firmly 
yet  gently  between  his  hands,  bent  on  it  a  look  that 
allayed  the  rising  storm  by  the  magic  of  a  power  whicli 


363  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

the  young  man  had  never  u.sed  till  now,  though  conscious 
of  possessing  it,  —  for  Milly's  tell-tale  countenance  had 
betrayed  her  secret  long  ago.  As  he  looked  deep  into 
her  eyes,  with  a  glance  which  was  both  commanding  and 
compassionate,  they  first  fell  with  sudden  shame,  then, 
as  if  controlled  by  the  power  of  those  other  eyes,  they 
rose  again  and  met  them  with  a  sad  sincerity  that  made 
their  beauty  tragical,  as  they  filled  slowly  till  two  great 
tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  wetting  the  hands  that 
touched  them ;  and  when  Gabriel  said,  softly,  "  For 
my  sake  you  will  save  us  ?  "  she  straightway  answered, 
"  Yes." 

"  God  bless  you,  Milly  !  Now  tell  me  how  I  am  to 
help  you,  for  time  is  going,  and  lives  hang  on  the 
minutes." 

He  released  her  as  he  spoke  ;  and,  though  she  still 
looked  at  him  as  if  he  were  the  one  saving  power  of  her 
thwarted  life,  she  answered,  pleadingly, — 

"  Hush,  Master  Gabriel !  please  don't  speak  to  me,  for 
then  I  only  feel,  —  now  I  must  think." 

How  still  the  room  grew  as  they  Avaited  !  The  pres 
ence  of  death  was  less  solemn  than  that  of  fear,  for  the 
dead  seemed  forgotten,  and  the  living  all  unconscious  of 
the  awesome  contrast  between  the  pale  expectancy  of 
their  panic-stricken  faces  and  the  repose  of  that  one  un- 
troubled countenance.  How  suddenly  the  night  grew 
full  of  ominous  sounds  !  How  intently  all  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  beautiful  woman  who  stood  among  them 
holding  their  lives  in  her  hands,  and  how  they  started, 
when,  through  the  hush,  came  a  soft  chime  as  the  half- 
hour  struck !  Milly  heard  and  answered  that  silvery 
sound  as  the  anxious  watchers  would  have  had  her : 


AN    HOUR. 


363 


"  It  can  be  done,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  which  carried 
hope  to  every  heart.  "  It  can  be  done,  but  I  must  do  it 
alone,  for  I  can  pass  Mose  and  get  Andy  across  the  river 
without  their  suspecting  that  I'm  going  for  help.  You 
must  stay  here  and  do  your  best  to  guard  the  ladies, 
Master  Gabriel ;  it  won't  be  safe  for  any  of  you  to  go 


noAv 


"  But,  Milly,  the  boys  may  not  wait  till  twelve,  or  you 
may  be  delayed,  and  then  we  are  lost." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that ;  and  as  I  go  out  I'll  take  old 
Sandra  with  me  ;  she'll  understand  in  a  minute.  She'll 
go  do^\^l  to  the  mill  and  talk  to  them  and  keep  them,  if 
anything  can  do  it,  for  they  love  and  fear  her  more  than 
any  one  on  the  island.  Be  quiet,  trust  to  me,  and  I'U 
save  you.  Master  Gabriel." 

He  silently  held  out  his  hand,  as  if  pledging  his  word 
to  obey  and  trust.  With  the  warmth  and  grace  of  her 
impulsive  temperament,  Milly  bent  her  head,  laid  her 
cheek  against  that  friendly  hand,  wet  it  with  grateful 
tears,  kissed  it  with  loving  lips,  and  went  her  way,  feel- 
ing as  if  all  things  were  possible  to  her  for  Gabriel's 
sake. 

Listening  breathlessly,  they  heard  her  foot-falls  die 
away,  heard  Sandra's  voice  below,  a  short  parley  with 
Mose,  then  watched  the  old  woman  and  the  young  depart 
in  opposite  directions,  leaving  them  to  feel  the  bitterness 
of  dependence  in  a  strange,  stern  fashion,  which  they  had 
never  thought  to  know.  Man-like,  Gabriel  could  not  long 
stand  idle  while  danger  menaced  and  women  faced  it  for 
him.  Anxious  to  take  such  precautions  as  might  hold 
the  expected  assailants  at  bay,  even  for  a  moment,  he 
bade  his  mother   and  sisters  remain  quiet,  that  no  sus- 


364  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

picion  might  be  excited,  aud  crept  down  to  test  the  capa- 
bilities of  the  house  to  withstand  a  sliort  siege,  if  other 
hopes  failed.  The  slight,  mauy-doored  and  windowed 
mansion,  built  for  a  brief  occupancy  when  the  winter 
months  rendered  the  region  habitable  for  whites,  w- as  but 
ill-prepared  to  repel  any  attack ;  and  a  hasty  survey 
convinced  Gabriel  that  it  was  both  hazardous  and  vain 
to  attempt  a  barricade  which  a  few  strong  arms  could 
instantly  destroy.  As  he  stood  disheartened,  unarmed, 
and  alone  in  the  long  hall,  dimly  lighted  by  the  lamp  he 
carried,  a  sense  of  utter  desolation  came  over  him, 
dampening  his  courage,  and  oppressing  his  mind  with  the 
dreariest  forebodings.  Thinking  of  the  many  true  hearts 
and  stout  arms  far  away  there  at  the  North,  which  w^ould 
have  come  to  his  aid  so  readily  could  his  need  have  been 
known,  he  yearned  for  a  single  friend,  a  single  weapon, 
that  he  might  conquer  or  die  like  a  man.  And  both 
were  given  him. 

Pausing  before  a  door  that  opened  out  upon  the  r^ar 
of  the  house,  his  eye  caught  sight  of  a  heavy  whip,  whose 
loaded  handle  had  felled  men  before  now,  and  might 
easily  do  so  again,  if  wielded  by  a  strong  arm.  He  took 
it  dowm,  saying  to  himself,  '*  It  is  the  first  time  I  ever 
touched  the  accursed  thing ;  God  grant  that  it  may  be 
the  last."  A  low  sound  behind  him  caused  the  blood 
to  chill  an  instant  in  his  veins,  then  to  rush  on  with  a 
quicker  flow,  as,  poising  the  weapon  in  one  hand,  he 
lifted  the  lamp  above  his  head,  and  searched  the  gloom. 
Far  at  the  other  end  of  the  long  hall  a  dark  figure  crept 
along,  and  a  pair  of  glittering  eyes  were  fixed  upon  his 
own.  "Come  on;  I'm  ready,"  he  said,  steadily,  and 
was  answered  by  the  patter  of  rapid  steps,  the  sight  of 


AN    HOUR.  365 

au  unexpected  ally,  as  a  great  black  hound  came  leaping 
upon  him  in  a  rapture  of  canine  delight.  Old  Mort  had 
been  the  fiercest,  most  efhcicnt  blood-hound  on  the  island  ; 
and  still,  in  spite  of  age,  was  a  formidable  beast,  ready- 
to  track  or  assault  a  negro,  and  pull  him  down  or  throt- 
tle him,  at  word  of  command.  He  had  been  his  pos- 
sessor's favorite  till  Gabriel  came  ;  then  he  deserted  the 
old  master  for  the  young,  and  was  always  left  at  large 
when  he  was  at  home.  Mort  had  been  missing  all  day, 
and  now  the  rope  trailing  behind  him  was  sufficient  evi- 
dence that  he  had  been  decoyed  away,  lest  his  vigilance 
should  warn  his  master,  and  that,  having  freed  himself, 
he  had  stolen  home,  to  lie  concealed  till  night  and  his 
master's  presence  reassured  him. 

As  the  great  creature  reared  himself  before  the  young 
man,  with  a  paw  on  either  shoulder,  and  looked  into  his 
face  with  eyes  that  seemed  almost  human  in  their  intelli- 
gent affection,  Gabriel  dropped  the  whip,  put  down  the 
lamp,  and  caressed  the  hound  with  an  almost  boyish 
gratitude  and  fondness  ;  for,  with  the  sense  of  security 
this  powerful  ally  brought,  there  came  a  remorseful 
memory,  that,  though  the  possessor  of  two  hundred 
human  beings,  he  had  no  friend  but  a  dog.  At  this 
point  jMort  suddenly  pricked  up  his  ears,  slipped  from 
his  master's  hold,  and  snuffed  suspiciously  at  the  closed 
door.  Some  one  was  evidently  without,  and  the  crea- 
ture's keen  scent  detected  the  unseen  listener.  With  a 
noiseless  command  to  the  dog  to  keep  quiet,  Gabriel 
caught  up  his  only  weapon,  and  stood  waiting  for  what- 
ever demonstration  should  follow.  None  came ;  and 
presently  IMorl  returned  to  him  with  a  sagacious  glance 
and  a  sleepy  yawn,  sure  evidences  that  Mose  had  paused 


366  CAMP   AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

a  moment  in  bis  round,  and  had  gone  on  again.  Big 
Mose  was,  with  one  exception,  the  strongest,  most  rebel- 
lious slave  on  the  place  ;  and  though  Gabriel  had  longed 
to  rush  out  and  attack  him,  he  had  not  dared  to  try  it, 
for  his  strength  was  as  a  child's  compared  to  the  stalwart 
slave's.  Now,  with  Mort  to  help  him,  the  thing  was 
possible  ;  and  as  he  stood  there,  with  only  a  door  be- 
tween him  and  the  man  who  had  sworn  to  take  his  life, 
a  strange  consciousness  of  power  came  to  him ;  his  mus- 
cles seemed  to  grow  firm  as  iron,  his  blood  flowed  calm 
and  cool,  and  in  his  mind  there  rose  a  purpose,  desper- 
ately simple,  yet  wise,  despite  its  seeming  rashness.  He 
would  master  Mose,  and,  leaving  Mort  to  guard  him, 
would  go  down  to  the  mill,  and,  if  both  Sandra's  and 
his  own  appeals  and  promises  proved  unavailing,  would 
give  himself  up,  hoping  that  his  death  or  torture  would 
delay  the  doom  of  those  defenceless  women,  and  give 
Milly  time  to  bring  them  better  help  than  any  he  could 
give.  Some  atonement  must  be  made,  he  thought,  and 
perhaps  innocent  blood  Avould  wash  the  black  stain  from 
his  father's  memory  better  than  the  deed  he  had  hoped 
to  do  in  that  father's  name  on  the  morrow.  He  had  held 
a  precious  opportunity  in  his  hands,-  had  delayed  through 
a  mistaken  kindness  ;  now  it  was  lost,  perhaps  forever, 
and  he  must  pay  the  costly  price  which  God  exacts  of 
those  who  palter  with  their  consciences.  As  the  thought 
came,  and  the  purpose  grew,  it  brought  with  it  that  high 
courage,  that  entire  self-abnegation  which  we  call  hero- 
ism ;  and  that  fateful  moment  made  Gabriel  a  man. 

A  word,  a  gesture,  put  the  dog  upon  his  mettle ;  then 
cutting  away  the  long  rope,  Gabriel  threw  it  over  his 
arm,  unbarred  the  door,  set  it  ajar,  and,  standing  behind 


AN    HOUR.  367 

it,  with  the  hoimd  under  his  hand,  he  waited  for  Mose 
to  make  his  round.  Soon  Mort's  restless  ears  gave  token 
of  his  approach  ;  and,  as  the  steahhy  steps  came  stealing 
on,  he  was  with  dilliculty  restrained  ;  for  now  instinct 
showed  him  danger,  and  he  was  as  eager  as  his  master 
to  be  up  and  doing.  The  streak  of  light  attracted  the 
man's  eye.  lie  paused,  drew  nearer,  listened ;  then 
softly  pushed  the  door  open,  and  leaned  in  to  reconnoi- 
tre. That  instant  Mort  was  on  him,  a  heavy  blow  half 
stunned  him,  and,  before  his  scattered  wits  could  be  col- 
lected, he  was  down,  his  hands  fast  bound,  and  both 
master  and  dog  standing  over  him  panting,  but  unhurt. 

"  Now,  Mose,  if  you  want  to  save  your  life,  be  still, 
and  answer  my  questions  truly,"  said  Gabriel,  with  one 
hand  on  the  man's  throat,  the  other  holding  back  Mort, 
whose  tawny  eye  was  savage  now.  "  I  know  your  plot, 
and"  have  found  means  to  spoil  it.  How  do  you  think 
I'm  going  to  punish  you  all  ?  " 

"  Dun'no,  massa,"  muttered  Mose,  with  a  grim  resig- 
nation to  any  fate. 

"  I'm  going  to  free  every  man,  woman,  and  child  on 
the  island,  and  fling  that  devilish  thing  into  the  river," 
he  said,  as  he  spurned  the  whip  with  his  foot. 

An  incredulous  look  and  derisive  grin  was  the  only 
thanks  and  answer  he  received. 

"  You  don't  believe  it?  "Well,  who  can  blame  you,  poor 
soul?  Not  I.  Now  tell  me  how  many  men  are  on  the 
watch  between  here  and  the  rice-mill?"  Gabriel  spoke 
with  a  flash  of  the  eye  and  a  sudden  deepening  of  the 
voice  ;  for  both  indignation  and  excitement  stirred  him. 
The  look,  the  tone,  did  more  to  convince  Mose  than  a 
flood  of  words ;  for  he  had  learned  to  try  men  by  tests 


36S  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

of  his  own,  and  had  more  faith  in  the  promises  of  their 
faces  than  those  of  their  tongues.  More  respectfully, 
he  said, — 

"  No  one,  'sides  me,  massa.  Andy's  at  de  landin', 
and  de  rest  at  de  mill  'ceptin'  dem  as  isn't  in  de  secret." 

"  Mind,  no  lies,  Mose,  or  your  free  papers  Avill  be  the 
last  I  sign  to-morrow.  Get  up,  and  come  quietly  with 
me  ;  for  if  you  try  to  run,  Mort  will  pin  you.  I'm  going 
to  the  mill,  and  want  you  safely  under  lock  and  key  first." 

"  Is  massa  gwine  alone  ?  "  asked  Mose,  glancing  about 
him,  for  Gabriel  spoke  as  if  he  had  a  score  of  men  at 
his  command. 

"  Yes,  I'm  going  alone  ;  why  not?  " 

"  Massa  knows  dere's  fifty  of  de  boys  dar  sworn  to 
kill  him,  if  Milly  don't  git  him  'way  'fore  dey  comes  up?" 

"  I  know,  and  Milly's  done  her  best  to  get  me  off,  but 
I'd  rather  stay  ;  I'm  not  afraid." 

Gabriel's  blood  was  up  now :  danger  had  no  terrors 
for  him ;  and,  beyond  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  his 
purpose  lent  him  a  calm  courage  which  impressed  the 
slave  as  something  superhuman.  Like  one  in  a  maze  of 
doubt  and  fear,  he  obediently  followed  his  master  to  an 
out-house,  where,  binding  feet  as  well  as  hands,  Gabriel 
left  him  w^ith  the  promise  and  the  warning,  — 

"  Sit  here  till  I  come  to  let  you  out  a  free  man,  if  I 
live  to  do  it.  Don't  stir  nor  call,  for  Mort  will  be  at  the 
door  to  silence  you  and  howl  for  me,  if  you  try  any 
tricks.     I'll  not  keep  you  long,  if  I  can  help  it." 

The  slave  only  stared  dumbly  at  him,  incapable  of 
receiving  the  vast  idea  of  liberty,  pardon,  and  kindness 
all  at  once  ;  and  bidding  Mort  guard  both  prisoner  and 
house,  Gabriel   stole   along  the   path  that  wound  away 


AN    HOUR.  369 

through  grove  and  garden  to  the  rice-mill,  where  so  many 
lutes  were  soon  to  be  decided.  As  he  went  he  glanced 
from  earth  to  sky,  and  found  propitious  omens  every- 
where. No  flowery  thicket  concealed  a  lurking  foe  to 
clutch  at  him  in  the  dark ;  but  the  fragrance  of  trodden 
grass,  the  dewy  touch  of  leaves  against  his  cheek,  the 
peaceful  night-sounds  that  surrounded  him,  gave  him 
strange  comfort  and  encouragement ;  for  when  his  fellow- 
creatures  had  deserted,  Nature  took  him  to  her  motherly 
heart.  From  above,  fitful  glimpses  of  the  moon  guided 
him  on  his  perilous  way  ;  for  the  wind  had  changed,  the 
black  clouds  were  driving  seaward,  and  the  storm  was 
passing  without  either  thunderbolt  or  hurricane.  Coming, 
at  length,  within  sight  of  the  half-ruined  mill,  he  paused 
to  reconnoitre.  Through  chinks  in  the  rude  walls  a  dim 
light  shone,  muffled  voices  rose  and  fell ;  and  once  there 
was  a  hoarse  sound,  as  of  a  half-uttered  shout.  Creeping 
warily  to  a  dark  nook  among  the  ruins,  Gabriel  made  his 
way  to  a  crevice  in  an  inner  wall,  and,  looking  through 
it,  saw  a  sight  little  fitted  to  reassure  him,  either  as  a 
master  or  a  man. 

The  long,  low^-raftered  portion  of  the  mill,  Avhich  once 
had  been  the  threshing-floor,  Avas  now  lighted  by  the  red 
glare  of  several  torches,  which  filled  the  place  with  wekd 
shadows,  and  sudden  glimpses  of  objects  that  seemed  the 
more  mysterious  or  terrible  for  being  but  half  seen.  In 
one  corner,  under  a  coarse  covering,  something  lay  stark 
and  still ;  a  clenched  hand  was  visible,  and  several  locks 
of  light  hair  dabbled  with  blood,  but  nothing  more.  Fifty 
men,  old  and  young,  of  all  shades  of  color,  all  types  of 
their  unhappy  race,  stood  or  sat  about  three,  who  evi- 
dently were  the  leaders  of  the  league.  One,  a  young 
24 


370  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

man,  so  fair  that  the  red  lines  across  his  shoulders  looked 
doubly  barbarous  there,  Avas  half-kneeling,  and  steadily 
filing  at  a  chain  that  held  his  feet  together  as  his  hands 
had  been  held  till  some  patient  friend  had  freed  them, 
and  left  him  to  finish  the  slow  task.  He  worked  so 
eagerly  that  the  drops  stood  thick  upon  his  haggard  face, 
and  his  scarred  chest  heaved  with  his  painful  breath  ;  for 
this  was  the  Tony  who  was  too  much  cut  up  with  his 
last  whipping  to  run  on  Mrs.  Butler's  errand,  but  not  too 
feeble  to  strike  a  blow  for  liberty.  The  second  man  was 
as  near  an  animal  as  a  human  creature  could  become, 
and  yet  be  recognized  as  such.  A  burly,  brutal-looking 
negro,  maimed  and  distorted  by  every  cruelty  that  could 
be  invented  or  inflicted,  he  was  a  sight  to  daunt  the 
stoutest  heart,  as  he  sat  sharpening  the  knife  which  had 
often  threatened  him  in  the  overseer's  hand,  and  was 
still  red  with  the  overseer's  blood. 

Standing  erect  between  the  two,  and  in  striking  con- 
trast to  them,  was  a  gigantic  man,  with  a  fine,  dark  face, 
a  noble  head,  and  the  limbs  of  an  ebony  Hercules.  A 
native  African,  from  one  of  those  tribes  whose  wills  are 
never  broken,  —  who  can  be  subdued  by  kindness,  but 
who  often  kill  themselves  rather  than  suffer  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  lash.  No  one  had  dared  to  subject  him  to 
that  chastisement,  as  was  proved  by  the  unmarred  smooth- 
ness of  the  muscular  body,  bare  to  the  waist ;  but  round 
his  neck  was  riveted  an  iron  collar,  with  four  curved 
spikes.  It  was  a  shameful  badge  of  serfdom ;  it  pre- 
vented him  from  lying  down,  it  galled  him  with  its  cease- 
less chafing,  yet  he  wore  it  with  an  air  which  would  have 
made  the  hideous  necklace  seem  some  barbaric  ornament, 
if  that  had  been  possible  ;  and  faced  the  excited  crowd 


AN    HOUR.  371 

with  a  native  dignity  whicli  nothing  could  destroy,  and 
which  proved  him  their  master  in  intelligence,  as  well  as 
stren^^th  and  coura^je. 

Before  them  all,  yet  lifted  a  little  above  them  by  her  po- 
sition on  a  fallen  fragment  of  the  roof,  stood  old  Cassan- 
dra. A  tall,  gaunt  woman,  with  a  countenance  which  age, 
in  making  venerable,  had  not  robbed  of  its  vigor ;  her 
sightless  eyes  were  wide  open  with  a  weird  eifect  of  see- 
ing without  sight,  and  her  high  white  turban,  her  long 
staff,  and  the  involuntary  tremor  of  her  shrivelled  hands, 
gave  her  the  air  of  some  ancient  sorceress  or  priestess, 
bearing  her  part  in  some  heathen  rite.  The  majestic- 
looking  slave  with  the  collar  had  apparently  been  speak- 
ing, for  his  face  was  turned  toward  her,  and  his  dark 
features  were  still  alive  with  the  emotions  which  had  just 
found  vent  in  words.  As  Gabriel  looked,  old  Sandra 
struck  the  floor  with  her  staff,  as  if  commanding  silence  ; 
and,  as  the  stir  of  some  momentary  outbreak  subsided, 
she  said,  in  a  strong  voice,  which  rose  and  fell  in  a  sort 
of  solemn  chant  as  her  earnestness  increased  and  her 
listeners  grew  obedient  to  its  spell,  — 

"  Chil'en,  I'se  heerd  yer  plans,  —  now  I  wants  ter  len' 
a  han'  and  help  you  in  dis  hour  of  tribbleation.  You's 
killed  oberseer  Neal,  and  d'rectly  you's  all  gwine  up  ter 
de  house  to  kill  massa,  missis  and  de  young  folks.  Now 
what's  you  gwine  to  do  dat  fer?  and  what's  dey  eber 
done  bad  nuf  ter  make  you  wuUin'  ter  fro  'way  yer  souls 
dis  night?" 

"  Kase  we  can't  b'ar  no  more."  "  Old  massa  hunted 
my  boy  wid  hounds  and  dey  tore  him  ter  def."  "  He 
sold  my  chil'en  and  drove  Rachel  crazy  wid  de  partin'." 
"  Old  missis  had  my  pore  girl  whipped  kase  she  was  too 


372  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

sick  ter  stan*  and  dress  her."  "  Massa  Gabriel  may  be 
harder  dan  de  ole  one,  and  we's  tired  ob  hell." 

These,  and  many  another  short,  stern  answer,  came 
to  Sandra's  question  ;  she  expected  them,  was  ready  to 
meet  them,  and  knew  how  best  to  reach  the  outraged 
hearts  now  hungering  for  vengeance.  Her  well-known 
afflictions,  her  patience,  her  piety,  gave  a  certain  sanctity 
to  her  presence,  great  weight  to  her  words,  and  an 
almost  marvellous  power  to  her  influence  over  her  own 
people,  who  believed  her  to  be  half  saint,  half  seer.  She 
felt  her  power,  and,  guided  by  an  instinct  that  seldom 
failed,  she  used  it  wisely  in  this  perilous  hour,  remem- 
bering that  her  listeners,  though  men  in  their  passions, 
were  children  in  their  feelings. 

"  You  pore  boys,  I  knows  de  troof  ob  all  dat,  and  Fse 
had  my  trubblcs  hard  and  heavy  as  you  has,  but  I'se 
learnt  to  fergib  'em,  and  dey  don't  hurt  now.  Ole  massa 
bought  me  thirty  year'  ago  'way  from  all  I  keered  fer, 
and  I'se  slaved  fer  him  widout  no  t'anks,  no  wages,  eber 
since ;  but  I'se  fergived  him  dat.  He  sole  my  chil'en, 
all  ten  ;  my  boys  up  de  riber,  my  perty  little  girls  down 
to  Orleans,  and  bringed  up  his  chil'en  on  de  money ;  dat 
come  bery  hard,  but  de  Lord  helped  me,  and  I  fergived 
him  dat.  He  shot  my  ole  Ben  kase  he  couldn't  whip  me 
hisself,  nor  stan'  by  and  see  it  done  ;  dat  mos'  broke  my 
heart,  but  in  de  end  I  foun'  I  could  fergib  him  one  time 
more.  He  made  me  nuss  him  when  de  fever  come  and 
every  one  was  'fraid  ob  him  ;  de  long  Avatchin',  de  hard 
work  and  de  cryin'  fer  my  chil'en  made  me  bline  at  last ; 
but  I  fergived  him  dat  right  hearty,  fer  though  dey  took 
my  eyes  away  dey  couldn't  bline  my  soul,  and  in  de 
darkness  I  hab  seen  de  Lord." 


AN    HOUR.  373 

The  truth,  the  pathos,  the  devout  assurance  of  her 
.N'ords,  hupressed  and  controlled  the  sympathetic  crea- 
tures to  whom  she  spoke,  as  no  reproach  or  denunciation 
would  have  done.  A  murmur  went  through  the  crowd, 
and  more  than  one  savage  face  lost  something  of  its  bru- 
taUty,  gained  something  of  its  former  sad  patience,  as^ 
the  old  woman  touched,  with  wondrous  skill,  the  chords 
that  still  made  music  in  these  tried  and  tempted  hearts. 

"  Yes,  chil'en,  I  hab  seen  de  Lord,  and  He  has  made  de 
night  into  day  fer  me,  has  held  me  up  in  all  my  trubbles, 
tofe  me  to  hole  fas'  by  Him,  and  promised  He  would 
bring  me  safe  ter  glory.  I'se  faith  ter  feel  He  will,  and 
while  I  wait,  I'se  savin'  up  my  soul  fer  Him.  Boys,  He 
says  de  same  to  you  froo  me  ;  He  says  hole  fas',  b'ar  all 
dat's  sent,  beleebe  in  Him,  and  wait  the  coming  ob  de 

Lord." 

'' We's  done  tired  a-waitin',  de  Lord's  so  bery  long  a 

comin',  Sandra." 

It  was  a  weary,  hopeless  voice  that  answered,  as  an 
old  man  shook  his  white  head  and  lifted  up  the  dim  eyes 
that  for  eighty  years  had  ^vatched  in  vain. 

"  It's  you  dat's  long  a-comin'  ter  Him,  Uncle  Dave, 
but  He  ain't  tired  ob  waitin'  for  yer.  De  places  dar  in 
heaven  is  all  ready,  de  shinin'  gowns,  de  harps  ob  gole, 
de  eberlastin'  glory,  and  de  peace.  No  rice-swamps  dar, 
lio  sugar-mills,  no  cotton-fields,  no  houn's,  no  oberseer, 
no  nmssa  but  de  blessed  Lord.  Dar's  yer  chil'en.  Uncle 
Dave,  growed  beautiful  white  angels,  and  a-waitin'  tiU 
yer  comes.  Dar's  yer  wife,  Pete,  wid  no  lashes  on  her 
back,  no  sobbin'  in  her  heart,  a-waiting  fer  yer,  anxious. 
Dar's  yer  fader,  Jake  ;  he  don't  need  no  proppin'  now, 
and  he'll  run  to  meet  yer  when  yer  comes.     Dar's  yer 


374  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

pore  sister  Rachel,  Xed  ;  she  ain't  crying  fer  baby  now  ; 
de  Lord's  got  her  in  de  holler  ob  His  ban',  and  she's 
a-waitin'  fer  de  little  one  and  you  to  come.  Dar's  my 
Ben,  my  chil'en  all  saved  up  for  me,  and  when  I  comes 
I'll  see  'em  waitin'  fer  me  at  de  door.  But,  best  ob  all, 
dar's  de  dear  Lord  waitin'  fer  us  ;  He's  holdin'  out  his 
arras,  He's  beckonin'  all  de  while.  He's  sayin',  in  dat  lovin' 
voice  ob  His,  '  I  sees  yer  sorrows,  my  pore  chil'en,  I 
hears  yer  sobbin'  and  yer  prayers,  I  fergives  yer  sins,  I 
knows  yer  won't  'spoint  me  ob  dese  yere  fifty  precious 
souls,  and  I'se  a-waitin',  waitin',  waitin'  fer  yer  all.'  " 

Strange  fervor  was  in  the  woman's  darkened  face, 
strange  eloquence  in  her  aged  voice,  strange  power  in 
the  persuasive  gestures  of  her  withered  hands  out- 
stretched above  them,  warning,  pleading,  beckoning, 
as  if,  in  truth,  the  Lord  spoke  through  her,  illuminat- 
ing that  poor  place  with  the  light  of  His  divine  compas- 
sion, the  promises  of  His  divine  salvation.  A  dead 
silence  followed  as  the  last  yearning  cadence  of  the  one 
voice  rose,  fell,  and  died  away.  Sandra  let  the  strong 
contrast  between  the  here  and  the  hereafter  make  its 
due  impression,  then  broke  the  silence,  saying  briefly, 
solemnly,  — 

"  Boys,  de  Lord  has  spared  yer  one  great  sin  dis  night ; 
ole  massa  's  dead." 

"Glory  be  to  God,  amen  !  "  "  Halleluyer  !  dat  I'se 
libed  ter  see  dis  happy  day  !  "  "  De  Debbie's  got  him, 
shore  !  "  "  Don't  give  up  de  chance,  boys  ;  young  massa 
and  de  missis  is  lef  for  us." 

Such  exclamations  of  gi'atitude,  joy,  and  revenge,  were 
the  only  demonstration  which  the  news  produced,  and, 
mingling  with   them,   a    gust    of  wind    came   sweeping 


AN    HOUR.  375 

through  the  mill,  as  if  nature  gave  a  long  sigh  of  relief 
tliat  another  tyrant  had  ceased  to  blight  and  burden  her 
fair  domain.  Sandra's  quick  ear  caught  the  last  words, 
and  a  deep  oath  or  two,  as  several  men  rose  with  the 
fierce  fire  rekindling  in  their  eyes. 

"  Yes ! "  she  cried,  in  a  tone  that  held  them  even 
against  their  will,  —  "yes,  young  massa's  lef  ;  but  not 
to  die,  for  if  yer  gives  up  your  chance  of  damnation 
dis  night,  you'll  all  be  free  to-morrer.  He's  promised 
it ;  he'll  do  it,  and  dere'll  be  no  blood  but  dat  bad  man's 
yonder,  to  cry  from  de  groun',  and  b'ar  witness  'ginst 
yer  at  de  Judgment-Day." 

"  Free !  to-morrer !  Who's  gwine  to  b'lieve  dat, 
Sandra  ?  TTe's  been  tole  such  stories  often ;  but  de 
morrer's  never  come,  and  now  we's  gTNdne  to  bring 
one  for  ourselves." 

The  gigantic  man  with  the  spiked  collar  on  his  neck 
said  that,  with  a  smile  of  grim  determination,  as  he  took 
up  the  iron  bar,  which  in  his  desperate  hands  became  a 
terribly  formidable  weapon. 

A  low  growl,  as  of  muttering  thunder,  answered  him, 
and  Sandra's  heart  sunk  within  her.  But  one  hope 
remained ;  and,  desperately  clinging  to  it,  she  found  that 
even  in  these  betrayed,  benighted  creatures  there  still 
lived  a  sense  of  honor,  a  loyalty  to  truth,  born  of  the 
manhood  God  had  given  them,  the  gratitude  which  one 
man  had  inspired. 

"  Hear  me,  jes  once  more,  'fore  yer  goes,  boys.  Tell 
me,  what  has  young  massa  done  ter  make  yer  want  his 
blood?  Has  he  ever  lashed  yer,  kicked,  and  cussed  yer? 
Has  he  sole  yer  chil'ren,  'bused  yer  wives,  or  took  yer 
ole  folks  from  yer  ?     Has   he  done  anything  but  try  to 


376  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

make  ole  massa  kinder,  to  do  his  best  fer  us  while  he's 
here  ;  and  when  he  can't  do  nor  b'ar  no  more,  don't  he 
go  'way  to  pray  de  Lord  ter  help  us  fer  His  sake  ?  " 

Not  a  voice  answered  ;  not  one  complaint,  accusation, 
or  reproach  was  made,  and  Prince,  the  fierce  leader  of 
the  insurrection,  paused,  with  his  foot  upon  the  threshold 
of  the  door ;  for  a  grateful  memory  confronted  and  ar- 
rested him.  One  little  daughter,  the  last  of  many  chil- 
dren, had  been  taken  from  him  to  be  sold,  when  Gabriel, 
moved  by  his  despair,  had  bought  and  freed  and  given 
her  back  to  him,  with  the  promise  that  she  never  should 
be  torn  from  him  again.  For  an  instant  the  clasp  of 
little  clinging  arms  seemed  to  make  the  sore  chafing  of 
the  iron  ring  unfelt ;  the  touch  of  the  hand  that  gave 
the  precious  gift  now  made  that  rude  weapon  weigh 
heavily  in  his  own,  and  from  the  darkness  which  lay 
between  him  and  the  doomed  home  there  seemed  to  rise 
the  shadow  of  the  face  which  once  had  looked  compas- 
sionately into  his  and  recognized  him  as  a  man.  He 
turned,  and,  standing  with  his  magnificent  yet  mournful 
figure  fully  revealed  by  the  red  flicker  of  the  torches, 
put  out  one  hand  as  if  to  withhold  the  desperate  crowd 
before  him,  and  asked,  with  an  air  of  authority  which 
well  became  a  prince  by  birth  as  well  as  name,  — 

"  Sandra,  who  tole  you  massa  meant  ter  free  us  right 
away  ?  You  has  blessed  dreams  sometimes,  and  maybe 
dis  is  one  ob  'em.     It's  too  good  to  be  de  troof." 

"It  is  de  troof,  de  livin'  troof,  and  no  dream  ob  mine 
was  eber  half  so  blessed  as  dis  yere  will  be,  if  we  has 
faith.  Milly  tole  me  jes  now  dat  Massa  Gabriel  swore 
before  de  Lord  and  his  dead  father  dat  he'd  free  us  all 
ter-morrer  ;  and  I  come  here  ter  save  yer  from  de  sin  dat 


AN  HOUR.  377 

won't  help,  but  hinder  yer  awful  in  dis  world  and  de 
next.  Dere's  more  good  news  'sides  dat.  I  hecrd  'em 
talkiu'  'bout  de  Norf.  It's  risin',  boys,  it's  risin' !  —  de 
tings  we's  hecrd  is  shore,  and  de  day  ob  jubilee  is  comin' 
fas'." 

It  was  well  she  added  that  last  hope,  for  its  effect  was 
wonderful.  Men  lifted  up  their  heads,  hope  quenched 
hatred  in  eyes  that  grew  joyfully  expectant,  and  for  a 
moment  the  black  sky  seemed  to  glimmer  with  the  first 
rays  of  the  North  star  which  should  lead  them  up  from 
that  Dismal  Swamp  to  a  goodly  land.  Sandra  felt  the 
change,  knew  that  only  one  more  effective  touch  was 
needed  to  secure  the  victory,  and,  like  the  pious  soul 
she  was,  turned  in  her  hour  of  need  to  the  only  Friend 
who  never  had  deserted  her.  Painfully  bending  her  stiff 
knees,  she  knelt  down  before  them,  folded  her  hard 
hands,  lifted  her  sightless  eyes,  and  cried,  in  an  agony 
of  supplication, — 

"  Dear  Lord,  speak  to  dese  yere  pore  chil'en,  fer  I'se 
done  my  bes' !  Help  'em,  save  'em,  don't  let  'em  spile 
de  freedom  dat's  comin'  by  a  sin  like  dis  to-night,  but  let 
'em  take  it  sweet  and  clean  from  Thy  han'  in  de  mornin'. 
Stan'  by  young  massa,  hole  him  up,  don't  let  him  'spoint 
us,  fer  we'se  ben  bery  patient.  Lord ;  and  help  us  to 
wait  one  night  more,  shore  dat  he'll  keep  de  promise  fer 
Thy  blessed  sake." 

"I  will!" 

Tlie  voice  rang  through  the  place  like  a  voice  from 
heaven  ;  and  out  from  the  darkness  Gabriel  came  among 
them.  To  their  startled,  superstitious  eyes  he  seemed  no 
mortal  man,  but  a  beautiful,  benignant  angel,  bringing 
tidings  of  great  joy,  as  he  stood  there,  armed  with  no 


37^  CAMP    AND    FIRESIDE    STORIES. 

weapon  but  a  righteous  purpose,  gifted  with  no  eloquence 
but  the  truth,  stirred  to  his  heart's  core  by  strong  emotion, 
and  lifted  above  himself  by  the  high  mood  born  of  that 
memorable  hour. 

"  My  people  !  mine  only  while  I  speak  ;  break  up  your 
league,  lay  down  your  arms,  dry  your  tears,  and  forgive 
as  you  are  forgiven,  for  this  island  no  longer  holds  a 
master  or  a  slave  ;  but  all  are  free  forever  and  forever." 

An  awful  silence  fell  upon  the  place,  unbroken  till  old 
Sandra  cried,  Avith  a  glad,  triumphant  voice,  — 

"  Chil'en  !  de  Lord  hab  heerd,  de  Lord  hab  answered  ! 
Bless  de  Lord  !  O  bless  de  Lord  !  " 

Then,  as  a  strong  wind  bows  a  field  of  grain,  the 
breath  of  liberty  swept  over  fifty  souls,  and  dow^n  upon 
their  knees  fell  fifty  free  men,  while  a  great  cry  went  up 
to  heaven.  Shouts,  sobs,  prayers  and  praises  ;  the  clash 
of  falling  arms  ;  the  rattle  of  fetters  wrenched  away ; 
the  rush  of  men  gathered  to  each  other's  breasts,  —  all 
added  to  the  wild  abandonment  of  a  happiness  too  mighty 
for  adequate  expression,  as  that  wave  of  gratitude  and 
love  rolled  up  and  broke  at  Gabriel's  feet.  With  face 
hidden  in  his  hands  he  stood ;  and  while  his  heart  sung 
for  joy,  tears  from  the  deepest  fountains  of  a  man's 
repentant  spirit  fitly  baptized  the  freedmen,  who,  chnging 
to  his  garments,  kissing  his  feet  and  pouring  blessings  on 
his  head,  bestowed  upon  him  a  far  nobler  inheritance 
than  that  which  he  had  lost. 

''  Hark !  " 

The  word,  and  Sandra's  uplifted  hand,  hushed  the 
tumultuous  thanksgiving,  as  if  she  were  in  truth  the 
magician  they  believed  her.  A  far-off  murmur  of  many 
voices,  the   tramp  of  many  feet  was  heard  ;    all  knew 


AN    HOUR.  379 

what  it  portended,  yet  noue  trembled,  none  fled  ;  for  a 
mightier  power  than  either  force  or  fear  had  conquered, 
and  the  victory  was  already  won. 

Through  widening  rifts  in  the  stormy  sky  the  moon 
broke  clear  and  calm,  gliding,  like  a  visible  benediction, 
from  the  young  man's  bent  head  to  the  dusky  faces  lifted 
toward  the  promised  light ;  and  in  that  momentary  hush, 
solemn  and  sweet,  across  the  river  a  distant  clock  struck 
twelve. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


Wilmer 
31 


